


Murder on the Campaign Express

by westwingfanfictioncentral_archivist



Category: The West Wing
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Humor, Mystery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2002-07-26
Updated: 2002-07-26
Packaged: 2019-05-30 21:05:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 20,992
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15104867
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/westwingfanfictioncentral_archivist/pseuds/westwingfanfictioncentral_archivist
Summary: By Rhonda Dossett, Evelyn, Brandy, Shelley, Jayne and Cretkid. A twist on the Agatha Christie storyMurder on the Orient Express





	1. Murder on the Campaign Express

**Author's Note:**

> A copy of this work was once archived at National Library, a part of the [ West Wing Fanfiction Central](https://fanlore.org/wiki/West_Wing_Fanfiction_Central), a West Wing fanfiction archive. More information about the Open Doors approved archive move can be found in the [announcement post](http://archiveofourown.org/admin_posts/8325).

**Murder on the Campaign Express**

**by:** Brandy, Cal, Evelyn, Jayne, Rhonda, and Shelley

**Disclaimer:** Aaron Sorkin owns everything. 

**Category:** Romance, Josh/Donna

**Spoilers:** Everything through Season 3

**Rating:** YTEEN

**Author's Note:**

Something had to be done. She'd turned him into a weak, lily-livered wimp. Stripped of good sense, and was it possible that even his hair seemed thinner; he was a shell of his former, charming self.

And then there was the fact that everyone else was barely showing up. Why bother when all you got was a line or two? Meaningful stories? Not a chance with her dominating the scene.

And let's not forget the question of the sisterhood. She said she was a leader in the fight for women's rights - but what women wanted her as their leader?

No, something had to be done.

So, with a tip of the hat to Dame Agatha Christie and her classic thriller, Murder on the Orient Express, and a bow to Aaron Sorkin, a group of six fan fiction writers undertook the task of ridding the West Wing world of Amy Gardner. 

Who are we? Brandy, Cal, Evelyn, Jayne, Rhonda, and Shelley. Among us, we've written more than 200 West Wing stories. 

In case you're not familiar with the original story, here's a summary from [www.agathachristie.com](http://www.agathachristie.com)

> _Just after midnight, a snowdrift stops the Orient_  
>  Express in its tracks. The luxurious train is surprisingly full for the time of  
> year. But by the morning there is one passenger less. An American lies dead in  
> his compartment, stabbed a dozen times, his door locked from the inside......Red  
> herrings galore are put in the path of Hercule Poirot to try and keep him off  
> the scent but in a dramatic dénouement he succeeds in coming up with not one,  
> but two solutions to the crime. 

Now substitute Danny Concanon for Poirot; add Jed, Abbey, Leo, Josh, Donna, CJ, Sam, Toby, Margaret, Bruno, Connie, and Doug for the suspects - and, of course, Amy Gardner is the victim. After reading the interviews, see if you can figure out "who done it." At the end of this first part, you'll find a fun quiz.

Ready to roll? All aboard Murder on the Campaign Express.

All Aboard - by Evelyn 

"I feel like a pack mule, Josh."

"Hmmm, what?"

"I've got my suitcase, a garment bag, and two boxes of research notes. I don't think beast of burden is in my job description," Donna groused as she struggled under the weight of her luggage and Josh's files.

Josh didn't have a lot of sympathy to offer her. He was grappling with another two boxes, his backpack, and a shopping bag from Safeway Supermarkets.

"If we didn't have to schlep food," he whined. "My back is killing me. I need a flat wall to lean against. Jeez. Tell me again why I'm carrying around a vegetable garden and several smoked turkeys?"

"If you didn't schlep the food, then we'd have to eat the microwave-heated railroad hot dogs for two days. Better to eat smoked turkey than smoked moose. You'll thank me for this, Josh," Donna answered.

"I like microwave-heated hot dogs," he muttered, "especially with that canned cheese on top."

"I heard that," Donna retorted. "In Wisconsin, we use that stuff to stop leaks in tires."

They lurched through Union Station to Gate 11, where they met CJ and Toby.

"Whose bright idea was it to leave at midnight?" Toby complained, looking directly at Josh. Toby had a soft-sided computer bag in one hand and a leather valise in the other. 

"Don't even start with me," Josh groaned, juggling the boxes as the strap on his backpack slipped down his arm.

"Who else, mi amor. You brought her into our lives," CJ smugly pointed out, a small duffel bag slung over her shoulder.

"Yeah, I know. I think my little trip over to the dark side must have been another bout of temporary insanity." 

At their skeptical expressions, he added. "Okay. I made a mistake. And believe me I've paid for that mistake over, and over, and over again."

CJ looked pointedly down at her watch.

Josh sighed. "Yes, the midnight departure is my fault too. It's to accommodate her stupid schedule. The ballet doesn't get out until 11:00."

"And weren't you the one who wanted to be a ballerina?" A perfectly coiffed Sam joined the conversation, easily pulling his own five hundred dollar designer suitcase on wheels behind him.

"Remind me never to share my innermost thoughts with you again."

"Why are we still kissing up to her?" CJ reverted back to the topic at hand.

"You know why," Josh said with resignation in his voice. "She's Gillette's Chief of Staff. She's his attack dog. And she insisted that she be included in this trip and featured in Danny's article."

"I'd like to feature her in an obit," Donna mumbled, ushering the group down the station walkway.

They arrived at the red, white, and blue-decorated train. It had been christened the Bartlet Campaign Express. Leo and Margaret were standing outside one of the coach cars, along with Ron Butterfield and Danny Concanon.

"The doors are locked. You can exit from these two cars into the rest of the train, but no one, absolutely no one will be able to get into these staff cars except those on the approved list," the Secret Service agent was explaining to the Chief of Staff.

"So I'll have unfettered access to the President, First Lady, Chief of Staff, Deputy Chief of Staff, Communications Director, Press Secretary, hi CJ," the red-headed reporter grinned, "as well as Bruno, Connie, Doug, Donna, and Margaret? This should be quite a scoop."

"Your scoop will be to see how the Bartlet campaign will accommodate the junior Senator from North Dakota." Everyone froze as they turned to face Amy Gardner. She was dressed in crimson from head to toe.

"My day is complete," whispered Margaret to Donna. "The Bitch of the Century has made her grand appearance."

"You mean the hypocritical, lying, thieving jackass," Donna muttered.

"We call her Lockjaw," Doug mumbled, stepping out of the train car in front of Abbey Bartlet.

"What did he say?" the First Lady asked, shooting death ray glances at her former protege. 

"What Doug means," Connie, political operative and Doug interpreter, explained, "is that the witch never opens her mouth when she talks."

"Oh, but she gets her point across, doesn't she? The two-faced, scheming, tramp," Abbey hissed.

"Don't be shy, Ma'am. Tell us how you really feel," CJ smiled.

"Did you bring the wine, Claudia?" Abbey asked.

"Damn right and my own corkscrew. This time, I get to pick the guests at the hen party," the Press Secretary insisted.

The assemblage all stared at the lady in red. In order to move the group along, Ron Butterfield directed Amy into the car first, knowing that none of the others would turn their backs on her, even for the short time it would take to step on board.

As the rest entered the car, they were greeted by the President.

"Did you know that in 1948 Harry Truman traveled over 30,000 miles and spoke to more than 15 million people during his whistle stop tours?"

The staff quietly groaned. "And it begins," Leo muttered. "All we need is a newspaper with the headline 'Ritchie Wins' to complete this historical re-enactment."

"What did you say, old pal o' mine? You know there'll be a quiz at the end of this trip, my friends." He looked around the coach, and smiled, until he spotted 'The Evil One'.

"What's she doing here?" he snarled. "Didn't you have this train fumigated?"

"Calm down, Mr. President," Leo cautioned. "We've got everything under control," he added in a low voice. "Everything's taken care of, I promise." 

The President's eyes narrowed and he nodded.

"Okay everyone, let's turn in. Margaret, Donna, CJ, and Connie, you're in sleeper number one," Ron Butterfield read off his list.

"It'll be like a pajama party," Donna chortled. CJ, Margaret, and Connie shot her dirty looks.

"Josh, Sam, Toby, you're in sleeper number two. Leo, sleeper number three. Bruno and Doug are in sleeper number four. The President and First Lady, you're in the Executive Sleeper. And at the far end of that train corridor, is your sleeper cabin, Ms. Gardner."

"What about me?"

"I'm sorry Mr. Concanon, you'll have to sleep in one of the chairs in this car. They recline, so I'm sure you'll be comfortable."

"Is that where you'll be stationed?" Danny asked.

The Secret Service agent nodded.

"Fine, then I can interview you first."

Everybody shuffled off to their cabins, some with more enthusiasm than others.

Danny and Ron Butterfield settled down in the lounge car for the night. 

The train picked up speed and the night-shrouded landscape flew by the windows with an almost hypnotic effect on the intrepid newspaper reporter. Thinking of the days ahead, and some particular questions he had for a certain Presidential Press Secretary, Danny Concanon drifted off to sleep.

It was quiet that night. Very quiet, except for one moment when Danny was startled awake. He thought he heard a scream, but when he'd finally sat up and opened his eyes, all he heard was the chugging noise of the engine, the clackety sounds of the wheels.

"Did you hear something?" he asked Ron who was awake, and almost eerily alert, obviously still on duty.

"Just the wind," was the firm reply, as the Secret Service agent smoothed an imaginary wrinkle in his immaculate suit jacket.

Danny shrugged and settled back down in his seat. Dreaming of jackals and goldfish, he slept until the first morning light came streaming into the car. 

The President, First Lady, and staff all straggled into the car. Margaret and Donna turned on a coffee maker and put out donuts that had been brought on board in Washington, D.C. There was a general unspoken agreement of no conversations until everyone had had their first cup of coffee.

But as they were each savoring the initial sips of java, Danny looked around the car and asked, "Where's Amy Gardner?"

"Who cares?" mumbled the President, picking up a jelly donut and ignoring Abbey's frown.

"It's just that I'd like to get started with the roundtable discussion on the Bartlet campaign and I thought you said she had to be included."

"Wasn't my idea," Josh muttered, trying to choose between a chocolate creme-filled donut and one covered with white powdered sugar. His choice was made for him when a smiling Donna snagged the chocolate one.

"Hey," Josh whined, trying to take it away from her.

"Doesn't matter whose idea it was," Leo snapped, slapping the powdered sugar donut in Josh's hand hard enough to cause a puff of white to land on Josh's tie. "Ron, will you go and get Ms. Gardner and tell her we're waiting for her."

The Secret Service Agent nodded and left the car. In less than five minutes, he was back, ashen and shaken.

"What's the matter?" Danny asked, instinctively reaching for notebook and pen.

"She's dead."

"How do you know?" Danny, ever the sharp reporter, pressed for details.

"The stake through her heart was a hint."

"Is that how she died?" Danny asked, scribbling away in his notebook.

"Hard to tell. Could have been that or maybe the multiple stab wounds. Or I guess the bullet to the head could have done the trick. The rope around her neck and the cell phone down her throat didn't help matters. I just hope that the bucket of water that her head was stuck in didn't destroy any evidence. There may be more injuries, but I didn't want to mess up my suit. Frankly, the victim's a mess."

"But are you sure she's dead?" Danny pushed, trying to get to the heart of the matter, the crux of the problem, the headline of his story.

"Yes."

"Who could have done it?" Danny mused. "Who in the world would have wanted Amy Gardner dead?"

Everyone in the room stared at each other in silence. No one answered Danny's question with words, although shadows of guilt swept across the faces of all present.

Ron looked around the cabin at the President, First Lady, Leo, Josh, Sam, CJ, Toby, Donna, Margaret, Bruno, Connie, and Doug. "It has to be one of them," he said flatly. "I was with you all night, so I know you didn't do it, but everyone else is a suspect."

There was a collective gasp and the faint sound of organ music filled the train car.

"Did you find any clues in the room?" Danny shouted over the angry murmurings.

"Clues? Yes, indeed. The killer wasn't as clever as he or she should have been. A virtual cornucopia of clues was left in Ms. Gardner's sleeper cabin. I found some goldfish crackers, several pennies, a pink rubber ball, a prescription pad, a block of cheese, a slightly dirty cell phone, a cinammon raising muffin, a gumdrop, a pair of pink panties, a $100 bill rolled up in a Snuggle dryer sheet, a thesaurus, and an empty bottle of Rogaine."

"We need to figure out who did this dastardly crime," Ron intoned.

"Or presented this gift to humanity," CJ calmly offered.

Another collective gasp went around the room as all eyes turned to CJ.

"Oh get over yourselves. You know we're all humming the Hallelujah Chorus now that the wicked witch is dead....not that any of us did it, of course," CJ said primly, pouring herself a second cup of coffee.

"If none of you killed her, who did?" Danny challenged, hooking his thumbs under his dark green suspenders and rocking back on his heels.

"It must have been someone who snuck into the car while we were sleeping," Abbey offered, shutting the lid on the donut box before her husband could take another of the high cholesterol confections.

"No one could get into these cars," Ron argued. He looked at the ace reporter. "I'm going to need your help Concanon. I've sworn an oath to protect the President. That's my first priority. It's up to you to find out who killed Ms. Gardner while I keep my protectee safe. I'll help you of course, but we've only got a few hours before we hit the first campaign stop. It's imperative that we find the murderer before then. Before he or she is able to make an escape."

 

The Quiz

Can you match the clue to the suspect? Answers to be given at the end of the story. Extra points for being able to identify which West Wing episode the clue first made an appearance. Yes, we know Rogaine has never actually been mentioned <g>, but when did you first think it might be helpful?

Goldfish crackers

pennies

pink rubber ball

prescription pad

a block of cheese

cell phone

pink panties

cinnamon raisin muffin

$100 bill wrapped in a dryer sheet

thesaurus

Rogaine

gumdrop


	2. Murder on the Campaign Express 2

**Murder on the Campaign Express**

**by:** Brandy, Cal, Evelyn, Jayne, Rhonda, and Shelley

**Disclaimer:** Aaron Sorkin owns everything. 

**Category:** Romance, Josh/Donna

**Spoilers:** Everything through Season 3

**Rating:** YTEEN

* * *

Leo made his way down the train, gripping the handrail as the ancient locomotive lurched from side to side. Even during his days as a fighter pilot, doing tail spins, he hadn't felt so sick. And it was all the President's fault. A short whistle-stop tour of the Midwest by rail, because Jed liked trains. He had mumbled something about the gentle motion aiding his thinking. At which point Leo had switched off and prayed for a national emergency, or at least another crisis which needed him to remain in D.C. No such luck had befallen him. Instead, he was stuck on the train journey from hell. 

Of course there were upsides. The main one being that Josh's woman had finally been tamed. Happens it took death to do it, but she wouldn't be interfering with any more of their bills any time soon. 

"Ah, Leo," Danny said somberly, opening a door and sticking his head out. "I was just coming to find you." 

"We're in the middle of a campaign. Some of us have work to do. You remember that, right?" Leo grumbled, pressing his back to the wall as the train took a corner. Josh said it was stress relieving but Leo'd seen little evidence of it so far. 

"So I missed a few important briefings." Danny shrugged and stepped back into the compartment. "It isn't as though I can't catch up. You guys screw up, CJ saves the day and two days later you do it all over again." 

"Yeah." Leo slid into the vacant seat and removed his glasses. "So, you wanted to see me?" He glanced around the compartment and his eyes fell to the tall Secret Service Agent in the corner. "Okay, so this isn't going to be good." 

"Mr. McGarry." Ron nodded and stepped closer to the table. 

"This is about Amy." 

Danny allowed the flicker of a grin to cross his lips. "And what makes you think that?" 

Leo rolled his eyes and gave him the look he normally reserved for Josh when he'd done something dumb-assed. "Because you're interviewing everyone." 

"Right," Danny said quickly, suddenly feeling a little idiotic. "So where were you between midnight and seven a.m.?" 

"Working," Leo stated matter-of-factly. 

"On what?" 

"Um, let me see, you're a reporter, I have top secret codeword classification. Yeah, I'm gonna tell you what I was working on." 

"Were you alone, Mr. McGarry?" Ron asked in a monotone, his hands, as always, positioned behind his back. 

"Yeah." 

"Are you sure about that?" Danny prompted. "Margaret wasn't with you?" 

"I don't like what you're implying," Leo muttered defensively. It seemed that everyone and his mother wanted to matchmake him these days. First it had been the President and Jordan, then Abbey and some doctor, and now the senior staff had taken it upon themselves to find Leo a suitable friend. 

Changing tack, Ron intervened, "And you worked all night?" His voice betraying little of the disbelief he felt. 

Leo turned his attention to the agent. "I took a break sometime around 3 a.m. I went for coffee." 

"Did anyone see you?" 

"Yeah, a steward." 

"No one else," Danny pushed, pacing around the table. "Like I don't know, maybe-Amy?" 

Leo shook his head. "What do you think I am? The Casanova of the West Wing? First Margaret, now Amy." That was one woman Leo'd had no intention of touching with a bargepole, not unless it was to shove it somewhere. A small smile flickered across his lips at the image and he promptly dismissed it. 

Danny didn't say a word, his eyes flickering back and forth between Leo and Ron. Leo was hiding something. He was suddenly defensive and obtuse. 

"I wasn't implying anything," Danny stated. "So you didn't see Amy after you boarded the train?" 

Leo hesitated for the briefest of seconds before answering. "I was looking for Josh. We're campaigning in Illinois shortly and I wanted to make sure he was going to be okay." 

"Did you find him?" 

"No." 

"But you found Amy?" Danny asked, getting caught up in the cadence of Leo's voice. He watched Leo carefully, checking the fine handmade suit for tears or signs of blood. 

Leo sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Josh and his dame are inseparable. If he's not working, he's at her apartment having sex." And Leo knew all about their sex life. More than once Josh had recited the nights they had spent together. Thankfully, he had kept the really graphic moments to himself. Clearing his throat, Leo added, "Josh has been less than discreet about their bedroom activities. The images are enough to keep me awake for months." 

"So why the coffee?" 

Leo shrugged, "Margaret likes me to eat a couple of times a day. Or, at the very least drink. It's my way of keeping her happy." 

Ron placed his hands flat on the table. "Let's get back to when you were looking for Josh. So, you found yourself in Amy's room? What happened next?" 

Leo turned his attention to Danny and grinned, "Well, she opened the door and flung her arms around my neck before sticking her tongue down my throat." 

Danny stopped pacing and stared at Leo. "Excuse me?" 

"She thought I was Josh, you idiot," Leo groaned. 

Not an easy mistake to make, Danny concluded. Leo was five four, with grey thinning hair and a slight paunch. Josh was six foot, with unruly hair and a firmer physique. He made a note to check whether Amy wore glasses or contact lenses. 

"She realized her mistake, of course?" 

Leo nodded. 

"And?" 

"And what?" Leo asked casually. 

"What happened next?" Danny sighed, his agitation obvious. 

"I asked if Josh was there, she said he was walking the train so I left," Leo explained. He glanced at his watch and groaned. He needed to get back to work and he still hadn't spoken to Josh. 

"So you were in her room, what? Two minutes?" 

"Something like that, I don't know," Leo growled, throwing his hands up in frustration. "Look, I didn't kill her." 

Danny smirked. "But you were with her slightly longer than you said?" 

Leo frowned and picked up his glasses from the table. He turned the glasses around between his fingers before looking directly at Danny. "Yes." 

Ron moved around the table until he was standing over Leo. "How long? Long enough to kill her?" 

"If you think the good cop, bad cop is intimidating me, there is something you should know," Leo growled dryly. "I'm not easily intimidated." 

"Except where Karen Cahill is concerned," Danny spoke. 

"Oh for the love of God. I made a simple joke about her shoes," Leo growled, dropping his spectacles on the table with a clatter. "How was I to know women have a special relationship with their shoes." 

"Was that what you and Amy fought over, her shoes?" Ron fired quickly. 

Leo paused to think for a moment. "I don't think she was wearing shoes. I remember because I wondered why her feet were so dirty." 

Danny let out an exasperated sigh at the lack of progress. "Leo?" 

"Right, Amy." Leo folded his hands on the desk and leaned back in his seat. "After I extracted myself from her arms, she invited me in. She had ordered food for Josh and herself, and as he wasn't hungry, she thought I might like some." 

"Very cosy," Danny muttered under his breath, scribbling notes frantically. "So the two of you shared an early breakfast?"

Leo gave Danny one of his widest grins, the one he reserved for his girls. "Yeah, we had cheese." 


	3. Murder on the Campaign Express 3

**Murder on the Campaign Express**

**by:** Brandy, Cal, Evelyn, Jayne, Rhonda, and Shelley

**Disclaimer:** Aaron Sorkin owns everything. 

**Category:** Romance, Josh/Donna

**Spoilers:** Everything through Season 3

**Rating:** YTEEN

* * *

"Come in," Ron Butterfield sternly requested, opening the dining car door for Margaret. 

Nervously, Margaret entered the narrow room filled with vinyl covered booths and the odor of stale donuts. The room was empty expect for the three of them, herself and her two interrogators. 

Danny Concanon was waiting for her, smile and notebook at the ready. The reporter was sitting at one of the linen covered tables, his green suspenders the only spot of color on his black dress shirt and matching black slacks. 

"Hiya, Margaret," he chirped, his fondness for the quirky secretary evident in his easy manner. "How's tricks?" 

Margaret stopped just inside the doorway, her hands tightly clasped in front of her. "What do you mean by that?" she asked, her face expressionless. "Are you implying that I have a propensity for chicanery or deception?" 

"Neither, though there was a rumor about a forged signature on an official document," Danny quipped, tapping his pencil against his spiral bound notebook. 

Glancing at Ron Butterfield out of the corner of her eye, Margaret's face turned beet red. "You shouldn't give much credence to rumors. They are inherently unreliable." 

Noticing Margaret's discomfort with Ron Butterfield, Danny made a motion towards the dour Secret Service Agent. "Didn't you mention some calls you needed to make? I'm sure I can fly solo on this interview. I've never thought Margaret particularly dangerous." 

Giving Margaret a careful "once over" as if considering frisking her for weapons, Ron finally nodded and walked out of the dining car without comment. 

"Have a seat," Danny suggested, getting to his feet and pulling out a chair for her. "I promise not to take up too much of your time." 

Frowning at the reporter as though afraid he was going to yank the chair out from under her at the last minute, Margaret carefully sat down, keeping her back ramrod straight and positioning her feet, crossed at the ankle, one directly in front of the other. 

"Leo needs me to type up some meeting notes this afternoon," Margaret warned, crossing her arms. "I really don't know how I can help you with your investigation." 

Danny smiled and walked over to a coffee urn on the counter. "Sometimes people know things that they don't know they know." Holding up an empty coffee cup, Danny silently offered her coffee. 

She nodded. 

"Use anything in it?" he asked, filling the cup with the dark liquid. 

"Please add one and a half teaspoons of non-fat creamer and two packets of Equal," she primly responded. "The blue packets not the pink," she added as he reached for the wrong artificial sweetener. "Scientific studies show that some artificial sweeteners cause cancer in rats, but I'm of the opinion that rats are actually very fragile creatures and susceptible to many diseases, cancer among them." 

"Really," Danny replied, setting her coffee down in front of her. "If they're prone to so many diseases, I wonder why there are so many of them." 

Leaning towards him as he took a seat across from her, Margaret lowered her voice. "Well, one theory concerns reincarnation and some connection to Egyptian rulers." At his look of disbelief, she confided, "Not all of the hieroglyphics in the tombs have been translated. Personally, I think that female rats are just extremely fertile. It may actually have to do with the number of times that the male rat manages to . . ." 

"Uh, okay," he interrupted, rubbing his forehead. "Well, we should . . ." Shaking his head to clear the rat mating images from his mind, Danny glanced down at his notebook. "Where were you between midnight and 7:00 a.m.?" 

"On this train," she dryly replied, taking a cautious sip of the hot liquid in her cup. 

"Okay. I'll rephrase my question. Which train car, or cars, were you in?" 

Swallowing, Margaret set her cup back on the table. Cupping both hands around it, she stared at the toffee colored liquid. "As soon as we left the station, I went back to my assigned car, Sleeper #1, and unpacked. You know you can't leave rayon folded too long or the wrinkles set in. Of course rayon is much better than cotton as far as wrinkles go. The only advantage is that you can steam some of the wrinkles out of cotton. Do that to rayon and it'll shrink two sizes. I did bring some cotton garments, but I supposed that, on a train, hot water would be limited and running a shower for a long . . . ." 

Clearing his throat, Danny quickly interjected a new question. "After you unpacked, where did you go?" 

"I took my overnight bag and walked down to the women's bathroom. I wanted to get cleaned up and changed into my night clothes before there was a line for the facilities." 

"Did you see anyone?" 

"Who? 

"Anyone." 

"When?" 

"When you left your sleeping quarters." 

"Before or after I left the bathroom?" 

"Both, either, or during," Danny responded trying to hurry up the questioning. So far he'd learned little about anything other than rats and rayon. Neither of which had killed Amy Gardner. 

"I saw my bunk mates coming down the hallway when I left the bathroom. I think it was very poor planning for Ron Butterfield to assign four of us to one car. Can you imagine how crowded we were with all of us in that one little room?" 

Danny narrowed his eyes as he listened to her complain about the crowded conditions. "It was my understanding that the overcrowding situation in Sleeper #1 occurred because no female staff member would share a car with the deceased?" 

Margaret sniffed and retorted, "Well, the way it turned out, sharing a car with Amy Gardner could have been more of a health hazard than the muffins in the West Wing Mess Hall." 

Looking through his notebook, Danny stopped and made a note on one page. "You have a problem with muffins, don't you?" he asked, glancing up at Leo's assistant. 

"You mean muffins in general or muffins sold in the Mess?" 

"I mean you get a little hysterical when the subject of muffins comes up. I heard you once shut down the whole West Wing e-mail system with a muffin virus." 

"That's absolutely not true," Margaret screeched, abruptly standing up and rattling the dishes on the table. "Who told you that? I just forwarded an e-mail responding to another e-mail about the erroneous calorie count in the cinnamon-raisin muffins. How could I have known that it was going to be forwarded to all the office staff and then, when they each responded, the number of e-mails would snowball with e-mails flying back and forth, faster and faster and . . . ." 

"So you've used muffins as a weapon before?" Danny alleged. "Did you kill Amy Gardner?" 

"What?" she asked, confused and wringing her hands. "What do muffins have to do with that woman's death?" 

"You left one in her room when you paid her a visit last night." Standing, Danny rounded the table and stopped in front of the tall secretary. "You're good, Margaret. But you made a mistake. She didn't eat the whole thing. Ron said the muffin was filled with rat poison along with the raisins." 

"You're crazy," she shouted. "Even if he was just making fun of me, I should have taken Toby up on his offer to have them analyzed. I've tried to warn people about those muffins, but if they refuse to listen to me, it's not my responsibility." 

"Did you tell Amy Gardner about the muffins? Margaret? What else did you warn her about? You did see her last night, didn't you?" 

"Yes, damn it," Margaret sobbed. "I saw her, but I didn't kill her." 

Calmly, Danny took Margaret's arm and led her back to her seat. "Tell me what happened." 

For a while, Danny didn't think she was going to answer. She was bent over the table, elbows on the white linen, her face hidden by both hands. He waited as her sobs died down. 

Finally, he tried again. "Margaret, tell me what happened between you and Amy Gardner. 

Straightening her back, she moved her hands off the table into her lap. In a halting voice she said, "After I changed into my gown and robe, she saw my necklace." 

"What?" 

"When I passed her in the hall, coming from the bathroom, I dropped it. She saw the necklace Bruno gave me." 

"A necklace?" 

"It had my name on it," she whispered, staring down at her folded hands. 

"I don't understand. Why was that a problem?" Danny questioned, pulling his chair up close to hers. 

"She laughed at me," Margaret said, raising her swollen eyes and staring at the reporter. With misery etched on her face, Margaret mimicked Amy's distinctive speech pattern. "I see Bruno struck again. He hands out these necklaces like candy, along with that line about not remembering your name. How many times did you sleep with him before he asked you for help in dealing with Leo? Margaret, darling, he's not really that good in bed." 

"You and Bruno have a thing?" Danny asked, completely flabbergasted. 

"Had," Margaret hissed, anger clouding her features. "He wanted me to sign Leo's name to one of his travel vouchers, a trip I knew he didn't take. It was clear to me then that he really didn't care about me, that he was just using me. He actually believed that I would betray Leo for him." 

Raising an eyebrow at her in disbelief, Danny questioned, "If you and Bruno were quits, why did you still have the necklace? Why wear it?" 

Embarrassed, Margaret swallowed hard. "To show him that he didn't matter to me. To make him think that the only reason I had an affair with him was for the jewelry. That I was using him." And then, as an afterthought, she quietly added, "And as a reminder to myself that men don't really think about me that way." 

"Oh Margaret," Danny responded, his face softening. "You don't really believe . . ." 

Crossing her arms over her chest, Margaret angrily interrupted him. "Don't - Just don't." 

"Margaret," he tried again, gently touching her shoulder. 

Indignantly, she shrugged off his hand. "I don't want you to feel sorry for me. I take care of my own problems." 

"Was Amy one of those problems?" 

Wide-eyed, Margaret stared at Danny. 

"She - she threatened to tell Leo. I couldn't bear for him to know how stupid I was." 

"What did you do, Margaret? How did you stop her?" Danny asked, afraid of her answer. 

For several seconds, there was complete silence, then she took a sip of her now cold coffee. 

"Nothing," she calmly replied, her poise recovered. "I didn't have to do anything. Someone else did it for me." 

As Danny stared at Leo's personal assistant, he tried to decide if she was telling him the whole truth. He really couldn't imagine Margaret hurting anyone, even Amy Gardner. Well, maybe she would to protect Leo. But Leo didn't need protecting here. Did he? There was more to the story than she was telling, of that he was certain. 

Margaret, her face expressionless, stared back at him as he deliberated. 

Just as he decided to accept her denial, she smiled. 


	4. Murder on the Campaign Express 4

**Murder on the Campaign Express**

**by:** Brandy, Cal, Evelyn, Jayne, Rhonda, and Shelley

**Disclaimer:** Aaron Sorkin owns everything. 

**Category:** Romance, Josh/Donna

**Spoilers:** Everything through Season 3

**Rating:** YTEEN

* * *

"Sam? Got a minute?"

"I'm kind of busy here." The Deputy Communications Director turned away from the mirror after running the comb through his hair one more time. At last, he turned to face the red-headed, bearded reporter. "Do you think my hair is too big? I mean do you think it looks too 80's-ish?"

"Uh, Sam. A woman was killed last night. Do you have any thoughts on that?"

"Well she didn't have very good hair," he said pensively, turning back to the mirror and again checking his own tresses.

Danny and Ron had searched the train for the Deputy Communications Director before finally discovering him staring into the mirror in the sleeper cabin he had shared with Josh and Toby the previous night. 

"Why don't we sit down?" Ron Butterfield suggested.

The three men perched on the sleeper's bunks.

Sam rubbed his hands together, over and over again. "Out, damned spot! Out I say!"

"Pardon me?" Ron asked.

Sam patted his pants pockets. "Have you seen my penknife?"

"Can't say that I have," Danny answered.

"I seem to have misplaced it. Oh, well. How can I help you?"

"Did you hear anything unusual last night?" Danny asked.

Sam shook his head. "Who could hear anything with Toby snoring like a freight train and Josh snorting like a pig?"

"Did you talk to Amy last night?"

"I've never met Amy Gardner in my life."

"Never?"

"At no time was I ever in the same room with the woman, but of course, that doesn't mean that I didn't hate her with the heat of an NBC supernova promo."

"Wow, you really did despise the bitch," Danny muttered under his breath.

"I'll say just one word, well actually two."

Ron and Danny looked expectantly at the debonair, suave, perfectly-coiffed Deputy Director of Communications.

"Call Girl."

"Huh?" The Secret Service Agent and well-worn reporter's jaws dropped.

"I never knew that Amy Gardner was a whore," squeaked Ron.

"A lying, cheap whore," Sam confided, winking at his two interrogators. "Unlike the high-priced call girl that I accidentally slept with."

"Are you telling me that Amy Gardner charged for sex?"

"What do you call someone who trades sexual favors for something she wants?"

"He's right, she is a slut," murmured Danny.

"She gives call girls a bad name," Ron sneered.

"And that's why you hated her?" Danny asked.

Sam stared off into space. His face became wistful and he whispered, "No. I hated her because ever since she arrived on the scene I've been acting like a complete idiot and I don't know why."

"I heard about you and the penny," Danny whispered. "You really are a dork."

Sam sighed a soulful sigh.

"Did you hear the one about the aliens stealing the gold from Fort Knox?" Ron asked the intrepid reporter.

"No shit? Who said that?" the fiery redhead yelped.

Ron nodded his head in the direction of the Deputy of Good Hair Days.

"It's worse than that," Sam whispered.

"What else did she do to you?" Ron and Danny exclaimed in horror.

"I used to be a player. I always got the girls. That's why a high-priced call girl like Laurie was more than willing to sleep with me for free. Do you get how good I was in picking up chicks?"

Danny and Ron nodded. "You were 'da man.'"

"Damn right," Sam boasted proudly, but then he paused, tears beginning to flow silently down his cheeks.

"But then that bitch came on the scene and I haven't had a woman look at me since. Do you remember Ainsley?"

"The hot Republican?" Danny panted.

"She could make a good dog break his chain," Ron whistled.

Sam nodded. "Well we definitely were moving towards a thing. We bantered. All that talk was like foreplay. And then poof, Amy shows up and Ainsley tells me she's leaving for Miami."

"And you never....." Danny asked with a leer.

Sam shook his head sadly.

"And then..." Sam's voice broke.

"What more could happen to you?" Ron asked solicitously.

"Connie just disappeared completely with no explanation."

Ron and Danny gasped. "But...but she's on the train, Sam," they exclaimed.

"Sure she may be on the train, but that's the first time she's been seen by any West Winger in more than seven months. Amy Gardner showed up and Connie totally vanished from the White House. And that woman wanted me. As soon as I brought the Spanish, I thought she was going to jump me right there on the couch. Or was that CJ who wanted to do me on the couch?" he asked quizzically. 

"CJ? You? On the couch?" Danny said indignantly.

"It doesn't matter," Sam said wistfully. "Once Amy arrived on the scene, all available women vamoosed. I admit I was having a dry spell after Laurie, but then all of a sudden two women wanted me. But once that bitch showed up, well... I haven't got laid all year."

"Amy Gardner made you a shell of your former shallow self," Ron offered sympathetically.

"Thank God you've still got your hair," Danny nodded.

"She had to be stopped. You understand that, don't you?" Sam pleaded, rubbing his hands together over and over again.

Ron and Danny exchanged glances.

"Are you saying that you killed Amy Gardner?" Danny pressed, pen hovering over his notebook.

Sam looked up and stared into space.

"Did you kill Amy Gardner?" Danny whispered.

Sam smiled. "Of course not. Why would I kill her. I didn't even know her."


	5. Murder on the Campaign Express 5

**Murder on the Campaign Express**

**by:** Brandy, Cal, Evelyn, Jayne, Rhonda, and Shelley

**Disclaimer:** Aaron Sorkin owns everything. 

**Category:** Romance, Josh/Donna

**Spoilers:** Everything through Season 3

**Rating:** YTEEN

* * *

"They're going to try to blame us for this, aren't they?" Doug complained, as he paced around the dining car. "Forget we didn't even know the woman. The President probably believes 'his' Senior Staff is too pure of thought and deed to stoop to murder, especially one as messy as this one. No one in the Bartlet Administration could stand getting their hands that dirty, even to save themselves." 

"I wouldn't be too sure of that," Bruno dryly answered, while continuing to read the latest polling numbers spread out over one of the linen covered tables. "If we don't recover a half dozen points with the women's groups, I think the staff will draw straws as to who gets to hand Josh his head on a platter. Ms. Gardner managed to do a lot of damage in the short time she had her claws into Leo's fair-haired boy." 

"What Doug means is that we're not in the President's trusted inner circle, so naturally he'll be more likely to think the murderer was one of us three," Connie calmly explained. Sighing, she added, "How long are we supposed to wait for Sherlock Holmes and Watson to show up? Didn't the message say 3:30 pm?" 

"It's probably some kind of a mind game," Doug blustered. "They want us to sweat a little before the questioning starts. 

Without raising his head, Bruno mumbled, "If you're hot, turn up the air conditioning." 

"Why am I the only one worried about this?" the speech writer asked, rubbing his hand over his bald head as if hoping to be granted three wishes. 

"You're not really worried. You're just anxious," Connie said, getting up from the table and checking out the status of the coffee on the sideboard. Wrinkling her nose at the thick, black-colored brew, she asked, "If I make another pot, will anyone else have some?" 

"I wish you wouldn't do that," Doug whined, continuing his pacing. 

"You don't like my coffee?" she countered, surprised. Turning to face him with the pot in her hand, she said, "You should have said something. Is my coffee too weak? I can make it stronger if you want. No one ever said anything bad about the way I make it before." 

"Not the coffee, Connie. Stop telling me what I mean. I speak perfectly adequate English. I don't need an interpreter." 

Connie opened her mouth to protest, but Bruno interrupted. 

"Connie, make the coffee. Doug sit down and quit rubbing your head. Your hair is gone and it's not coming back, no matter how much you massage your scalp," an irritated Bruno declared, clicking his pen closed and folding up the printouts he'd been studying. "Concanon just wants to know where we were during the time Amy Gardner was killed. I'm sure we all have perfectly good alibis. Don't we?" 

When neither answered him, Bruno looked up. "Well?" 

"Uh, that would depend on exactly when she was killed," Connie softly said, ducking her head as she carefully put a clean filter in the coffee maker. "I went to bed early." 

"What about you?" Bruno asked, staring at the unusually quiet speech writer. 

"I was working on the speech for Pittsburgh." 

Crossing his arms, the campaign manager leaned back in his chair and declared, "Let's have a look at it while we're waiting." 

Doug's face blanched and he walked over to where Connie was spending an inordinate amount of time measuring out the proper amount of coffee grounds. 

"Doug?" Bruno growled. "What's going on?" 

His back to Bruno, Doug coughed and said, "I might have seen Amy Gardner last night?" 

Narrowing his eyes, Bruno countered, "Might?" 

"What Doug means is . . .," realizing what she was doing Connie stopped. "Uh, sorry." 

"Now you quit?" a flustered Doug challenged, trying to stall for time. "Tell him." 

"Doug and I saw Amy last night," Connie blurted out. "But we didn't kill her." 

"That's good to know," Danny Concanon asserted, as he and Ron Butterfield made their presence known. As everyone's head swiveled to the now open door, the reporter quipped, "Maybe we should have knocked first?"

Ron escorted Bruno and Connie out, so the dining car was empty except for Danny Concanon and the increasingly nervous campaign speech writer. 

"Doug, how long have you been using Rogaine?" the red-haired sleuth asked, his notebook opened to a half-filled page. 

Startled, Doug ran his sweaty palm over his scalp for about the tenth time in the last five minutes. "I - I was given - I got a bottle as a gift," he stuttered. "I never actually used it." 

"Someone gave you Rogaine as a gift?" Danny repeated. "Sounds more like an insult to me. Who gave it to you?" 

Doug looked at the reporter and then down at his hands. Starting to run a hand over his head again, Doug caught himself at the last minute. 

"Amy Gardner gave it to you didn't she?" Danny asked, pinning the speech writer in place with his piercing gaze. 

"The bitch thought it was funny," Doug erupted, slapping his hand on the table. "Well, you can see who had the last laugh." 

"Is that why you killed her? She made fun of you?" 

"The only thing I did to her was open the damn bottle and toss the contents in her face. Figured it would serve her right if she had to start shaving every morning." 

Scribbling a few notes in his small notebook, Danny closed the tattered cover, a pensive look crossing his face. "I think I'd better talk with Connie next. Send her in on your way out." 

"I didn't kill her," Doug grumbled as he marched across the room. "If I'd wanted the cow dead, I'd have thrown her off the train and commandeered her compartment. Least that way I'd have had a private place to finish this damn speech Sam dumped on me."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

"Why was Doug having trouble finishing the Pittsburgh speech?" Danny asked, as he poured Connie a cup of coffee. 

"He can't write with anyone else in the room. He says they suck up too much oxygen and depress his creative juices." 

"What?" Danny laughed, sitting down across from her. "I knew the guy was a little off center but . . ..." 

"He's really very sensitive," Connie protested. "He just doesn't have great verbal skills." 

"So is that your role? Explaining Doug to everyone else?" 

"I don't . . . Well, maybe I do. It's just . . ." her voice faded as words deserted her. Taking a sip of her coffee, Connie set the cup back on the table and ran her forefinger slowly around the rim. "I'm in love with him." 

"I figured," Danny chuckled. "You'd have to be to put up with his attitude." 

Offering Danny a small smile, Connie took another sip of coffee. 

"So do you love him enough to kill for him?" Danny blurted out. 

Choking on the coffee in her mouth, a startled Connie ended up spitting most of it out and spraying the reporter. 

As Danny swabbed at the stains, Connie grabbed a bottle of water from the sideboard and wet a napkin. "I'm so sorry. You just surprised me and . . ." 

"Yeah, well, I saw that technique work in a Columbo movie once. I forgot Peter Falk always wore an overcoat." 

"Look, Danny - can I call you Danny?" 

At his nod, Connie worked at blotting the coffee stains off of his silk tie. "Doug and I saw Amy last night. We didn't remember that car was assigned to her. We were just looking for some private place for Doug to write. The door was open and we walked in. When we noticed her suitcase, we turned around to leave, but she was in the doorway, sneering at us." 

"Go on," Danny requested, taking the damp napkin from Connie's hand as she started to clean the stains on the lower part of his shirt. 

"Oh," she blushed and sat back down. "Sorry, I wasn't thinking." 

"Yeah, well," he grinned. "I want to stay objective. Go on with your story, please." 

"Amy asked us what we were doing in her room. I told her, but she didn't believe us. She accused us of spying for Josh Lyman. We tried to leave - really," Connie assured the reporter, "but she was ready for a fight and we were in her line of sight." 

"She tossed a box of Rogaine at Doug. Said she bought it just for him and that he should try growing some hair, maybe with some luck it would even grow him a backbone. They got into a verbal sparring match and Doug opened the box and unscrewed the cap on the bottle. He tossed the contents at her. She lunged at him. I tried to separate them, but it was no use. Amy shoved me against the wall and I dropped my file folder and research materials on the floor. By the time I had gathered them up, Doug had stormed off with Amy screeching after him like the Wicked Witch of the West." 

"Is that when you left your thesaurus in her room?" 

Nodding her head, Connie finished her coffee and pushed the cup and saucer away from her. 

"But that's not the last time you saw Amy last night, is it?" Danny asked, reaching over and stilling her suddenly shaking hand. 

Connie just stared at him and refused to answer any more questions. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

"Let's get this over with in a hurry, shall we?" Bruno remarked, as he strode into the dining car. "I've got a campaign to run." 

"Fine," Danny said, flipping open his notebook to a clean page and ripping it out. "Write out your confession and we'll call it a day." 

"Funny," Bruno smirked. "I can see why you're such a hit with the female staff." 

"Maybe they just like me because I'm a likeable guy," the reporter joked. "I've heard that's not your problem." 

"I do all right," Bruno laughed. "I certainly don't have any problem finding someone to warm my bed, and I certainly don't spend years trying to coax a woman out on a date." 

The reporter's face turned a deep purple. "Let's try and stay on topic." 

Opening his notebook, Danny took his time and calmed down. Locating a particular page, he made Bruno wait while he reread it. Tapping his pen against the paper, Danny looked up and asked, "When did you end your affair with Amy Gardner?" 

At Bruno's stony silence, Danny added, "Or, maybe you never did end it. Were you seeing her at the same time you were seducing the Chief of Staff's assistant?" 

"I don't know what you're talking about," Bruno growled. "I hardly knew Amy Gardner." 

Changing tack, Danny flipped a page and said, "A source reported that Ms. Gardner gave you something when you came on board last night. What was it?" 

Shaking his head, Bruno relaxed in his chair. "A little joke. She gave me a 100 dollar bill wrapped in one of those flowery smelling dryer sheets." 

At Danny's blank stare, Bruno waved one hand in the air saying, "You know, the ones that keep your clothes from sticking when you take them out of the clothes dryer." 

"What's the joke?" Danny smirked. "Was she showing you how to launder money? I hear the Gianellis of Chicago know a little something about that already." 

"Funny. You're a funny, funny boy." Bruno crossed his arms and said, "Ms. Gardner handed me the $100 and the dryer sheet all rolled up together like a 'pig in a blanket.' She said this was the only way I'd ever get soft money into the campaign, that the Bartlet Administration was too 'ethical' for anything else. I gave it back to her and told her to show it to Toby." 

"So Ms. Gardner knew you well enough to give you campaign advice? The great Bruno Gianelli taking campaign advice from a former women's issues lobbyist and Gillette's new COS. I don't think so." Danny paused. "Did Josh Lyman know about your affair? Did he discover your nasty little secret?" 

Narrowing his eyes, Bruno pushed back from the table and got to his feet. "Josh Lyman couldn't find his ass with both hands. He never suspected a thing. Amy played him like a fiddle; that is until he got her fired. But she had plans to fix that." 

"Did you kill her?" Danny called after him as he headed for the nearest exit. 

Smiling, Bruno opened the door and paused. "I didn't kill her." 

"But you know who did?" Danny pressed, rising to his feet. 

Bruno stared at him for a moment. A shadow passed over his face and he muttered, "Maybe," before walking out the door. 


	6. Murder on the Campaign Express 6

**Murder on the Campaign Express**

**by:** Brandy, Cal, Evelyn, Jayne, Rhonda, and Shelley

**Disclaimer:** Aaron Sorkin owns everything. 

**Category:** Romance, Josh/Donna

**Spoilers:** Everything through Season 3

**Rating:** YTEEN

* * *

Danny had walked the length and breadth of the rail cars twice before finally shrugging his shoulders in defeat. He clamored into the dining car with a heavy, frustrated sigh.

Ron looked up from his study of the lists of notes they had been taking all day. "No luck?" 

Danny shrugged his shoulders. "I don't understand how that man can hide in plain sight." 

"The Secret Service does it everyday." 

"Yeah, but you guys are easy to pick out when someone is looking for you. The black suits and ear-pieces are a dead give away. Toby is wearing a brown suit. A brown suit! And he's not exactly svelte!" Danny proclaimed, flopping down in a chair. 

Just then one of the doors to the adjacent cars opened and Toby walked through, attention immersed in the 10-cent spiral notebook in his hand. The other danced with a pen over the small white ruled page though not actually touching ink to paper. He stopped, looked up, and glared at the two men staring astonished at him. 

"What?" 

"Where the hell are you coming from?" Danny sputtered. "I've searched every single car in this section of the train looking for you!" 

Toby pointed at the adjacent car with a halting statement. "I've been in there since breakfast."

"You were not!" 

"I did leave to use the facilities about an hour ago, but otherwise, I've been in that room all day." 

Danny brushed off the comment. "Whatever. We have some questions to ask you." He indicated a chair and asked that Toby have a seat. 

Toby continued to study his notebook. "About Amy Gardner's accident?" 

"The death of Amy Gardner is not exactly like Sam accidentally sleeping with a call girl." 

"To-MAY-to, To-MAA-to." 

Danny tapped his pencil on the tabletop. "I take it you were not fond of Amy?" 

"Do you know how much sleep I lost trying to gain back votes that she cost us?" Toby pulled down on the bruised skin below his right eye. "I can't afford to lose sleep." 

"I thought most of the staff's disavowed anger about the whole incident was directed at Josh," Danny supposed, looking through his own notes of the day. 

Toby closed his notebook and stuffed it in an inside pocket of his jacket. "We have come to expect self-aggrandized foul-ups on Josh's part." He ticked off points on his fingers. "A secret plan to fight inflation. Tailing Sam's call girl so that they could get the goods on some senator. Setting the White House on fire. Tobacco. LemonLyman.com. Need I go on?" 

"Potentially embarrassing, but not damaging," Danny nodded. "I get your point." 

"Not to mention the fact that I had to suck up to Amy's boss to get her on board to save that bill. I hate sucking up to people like that." Toby shuddered with a dramatic pause. 

"I see," Danny contemplated. "Did you see Amy last night?" 

"Not willingly." 

"So you did see her?" 

"I just said that, didn't I?" He looked at Ron sitting in the corner. "Aren't you going to participate in the fun here?" 

Ron shook his head. "We're playing good cop, silent cop." 

"Ah." 

Danny tapped his pencil harder on the desktop. "Can we get back to the interview?" 

Toby huffed and puffed, then settled in his chair with a 'let's get to it' motion of his hands. 

Picking up his notebook once more, Danny returned to asking the questions. "In what capacity did you see Amy Gardner last night?" 

Toby twirled his pen between his fingers as he decided the best way to answer the posed question. "She and Josh were having a ... discussion outside the compartment I was working in last night." 

"What were they 'discussing'?" Danny asked, drawing finger quotes in the air. 

"I suppose 'discussing' might not be the right word. 'Arguing' is too... mundane a word." 

Danny nodded. "As I've heard, they've elevated 'lover's spat' to a new level." 

"That is an understatement," Toby mumbled. 

"So, Josh and Amy were arguing last night. About what time was this?" 

Toby shrugged. "Don't know. Wasn't wearing a watch at the time." 

"What were YOU doing at the time?" 

"Reviewing what Sam laughingly refers to as a stump speech." Toby pulled a bundle of thinly shredded strands of paper out of his suit pocket. The bundle was tied with a plastic twist tie in the middle, making it look like a confetti version of a dozen roses. 

Toby waved it in the air like a wet noodle. "Has someone outlawed punctuation in this country? Did I miss the memo?" 

"Back to Josh and Amy arguing. What were they arguing about?" 

"Arguing depends on two people exchanging non-pleasantries. This was more of a one-sided rant." 

"Amy or Josh?" 

Toby tossed the paper bouquet towards a waste can. "Who would have thought that much noise could possibly come from a mouth permanently wired shut?" 

"And their arguing, or Amy's ranting, bothered you?" Danny asked. 

"Yes. I should have kept my mouth shut from the beginning." 

Danny was intrigued. "Kept your mouth shut about what?" 

"I pointed out to Josh that Amy's Sprint PCS guy was only dating her because he wanted to court the women's vote. Josh, in his narcissistic need to be the center of the universe, decided that he needed to save her from herself." 

"Sounds like your beef is more with Josh than with Amy." 

"It was, until she became Seth Gillette's COS. Now there are two pains in my backside that I have to watch. Crouching Whiner, Hidden Carbuncle." 

Danny tried not to laugh out loud. He had had more than his fair share of dealing with Seth Gillette. "Which is which?" 

"Does it matter?" 

Danny indicated that it didn't. He checked his list of questions to ask versus the list of articles found with the dead woman. 

"Toby, don't take this the wrong way, but where are your balls?" 

"And we haven't even had a first date," Toby coined. 

"You know what I mean." 

Toby fished a pink rubber stickball out of his suit pocket. "Do you mean this one?" 

"Actually, I was referring to the one found in Amy's compartment." 

"Ah." 

"Wouldn't happen to know how it got there?" Danny asked. 

"Nope." 

"Or how a perfectly round bruise the exact diameter one might get from a stickball being thrown at 50 miles per hour at your head might have appeared on Amy's temple?" 

Toby rapped the stickball against the wall behind Danny's head. It whizzed past Danny's ear during both passes. 

"I would say it was closer to 65 miles per hour. My pitching arm has lost some of its dexterity." 

"So you admit throwing the stickball at Amy's head?" 

"I was aiming for her mouth to shut her up, but I missed," Toby replied. 

"And you're not concerned that it could have been a killing blow?" 

Toby stood up and walked towards the door. "Not in the least. I could have thrown a bowling ball at her head and not had any effect." 


	7. Murder on the Campaign Express 7

**Murder on the Campaign Express**

**by:** Brandy, Cal, Evelyn, Jayne, Rhonda, and Shelley

**Disclaimer:** Aaron Sorkin owns everything. 

**Category:** Romance, Josh/Donna

**Spoilers:** Everything through Season 3

**Rating:** YTEEN

* * *

CJ's thoughts as she sits in the lounge car waiting for her turn at being interviewed....

I just knew this trip was going to be trouble. I mean, if we were on Air Force One someone could have at least stuffed her in that escape pod they're supposed to have for the President, and jettisoned her when no one was looking. But no- she has to be laying around like the irritating annoyance she was in life, only now it's worse- because now she's an irritating, DEAD annoyance. 

This is just like that damn cat curse all over again. I mean it this time. I'm actually quite serious. Really. The very minute I can get off this rolling loony bin, I am most definitely going to declare- in no uncertain terms- that "I quit"! 

How much more can they expect me to take, I ask you? It's enough to drive a sane, well-educated woman, to some sort of extreme behavior. Like, say for instance, prying someone's locked jaws apart and pouring little orange snack crackers down their throat while repeatedly beating them over the head with a copy of "The Feminist Mystique"... 

Oh wait, that sounds vaguely familiar. Now, to make matters worse I can feel Ron Butterfield and Danny honing in on me like some Americanized version of Holmes and Watson. Which would be cast in which role is entirely beyond my powers of imagination. ******************************************************************************

Ron approaches CJ first. He's got his all business, 'wouldn't crack a smile if my life depended on it' face, and Danny is acting like he's the next Woodward and Bernstein all rolled into one. 

'Really- I quit,' CJ thought to herself.

"CJ, we need to discuss this situation," Ron began. 

"Sure- why not. Anyone confessed yet?"

"No- why do you ask?" Ron asked, looking somewhat puzzled. 

"No reason- just thought someone would want to take credit...er, own up to the deed." 

"Nope, so far everyone looks like a viable suspect," Danny said, a knowing smile on his face as he regarded CJ. 

"Everyone?" CJ asked, her brow arched as she looked back and forth between Danny and Ron. 

"Well... almost everyone," Ron interjected. 

"Hmmm..." CJ murmured as she sat back in her chair. 

"CJ, where were you last night?" Ron asked. 

"Me? Well, I was here...in various places on the train. Mostly in my compartment." 

"Uh-huh...where else?" Danny asked with deceptive calm. 

"What do you mean, 'where else'?" 

"Well you said you were in 'various places', and that you were 'mostly' in your compartment- where else were you?" Danny clarified, directing that little leprechaun grin he thought was so charming her way. 

"I was in the lounge car, I was in the President's car for a short time, I was talking to Sam and Toby for a while. Then I went back to my own compartment."

"Did you see Amy?"

"Not that I recall. She was trying her best to stay as close to Josh as was humanly possible. Probably trying to ferret out some more inside information so that she could sandbag us at a crucial moment," CJ replied, and Danny couldn't help but hear the bite in her voice. 

"Do I detect a little animosity there, CJ?" Danny asked, a speculative gleam in his eyes.

"What's that supposed to mean?" 

"Well...it's just that I thought you were big on the sisterhood and all that. Did you have some problem with Amy that transcended your 'feminist bond'?" 

"There was no 'bond' between Amy and I. I'm not sure what she thought she was- but she definitely wasn't part of the sisterhood," CJ stated firmly.

"Okey-doke...well in that case, would you be able to shed any light on who might have wanted to see the 'non-sister' become one of the non-living?" 

"Nope, can't help you there." CJ replied. 

"No clue at all as to how she got dead?" 

"Well, Danny - now that you mention it - maybe she had some rare and progressive disease that diminished her ability to open her mouth, and she eventually suffocated to death." 

"You don't think that's a little farfetched, CJ?" Ron asked. 

"Well, no - not really. Didn't you ever notice her apparent inability to move her mouth when she spoke? It was really quite annoying to watch. It must have been quite inconvenient for her. It's quite sad when you think about it..." CJ trailed off, not quite able to hide the ever-so-slight curve of her lips as her inner amusement trickled out. 

"Well mysterious illnesses aside, Amy was most definitely a victim of foul play. In fact, upon closer examination, it seems that someone did, in fact, try to shove something down her throat in an attempt to choke her," Ron informed CJ, his inscrutable expression giving absolutely nothing else away. 

"Really? What?" CJ asked, making a show of rapt interest. 

"Some sort of orange, cracker-like substance," Danny answered with a pointed look in CJ's direction. 

"Hmmmm...how interesting." 

"And you wouldn't know anything about that either?" Danny asked. 

"Me? Why should I know anything about it?" CJ replied, the picture of innocence. 

"Well, it wouldn't be the first time you've kept knowledge of, let's say, less than sterling acts a secret," Danny observed with a smug little grin. 

"Wait a minute - if you're talking about the MS - I found out just about the same time as everyone else..." CJ asserted. 

"He's talking about the cat, CJ," Ron supplied. 

"Cat?" 

"The statue of Bast - the one you broke and super-glued back together," Ron reminded her, and CJ could have sworn she saw a little smirk turn the corners of his mouth before returning to his normally bland composure. 

CJ threw her hands up in frustration and exclaimed, " Am I ever going to shake this damn curse off. I mean - really - what did I do? I broke a piece of porcelain. It wasn't a very attractive piece of porcelain. Can I help it if I'm not a cat person? At least I don't yell at them like Josh does." 

"Josh yells at cats?" Danny asked, unable to keep the amusement out of his voice. 

"According to Donna he does," CJ shrugged, then added, "If anyone should be walking around with some ancient cat curse on them, it should be Josh - not me. Of course, he was dating Amy - so maybe he hasn't totally escaped the wrath of Bast." 

"Okay... well we've gone pretty far afield from the point of our little interview, which is, Amy's untimely demise."

"Oh yeah - well, I can't help you there." 

"And you can account for your whereabouts between midnight and seven this morning?" 

"Sure. I was asleep until about five-thirty, then I heard a noise." 

"A noise? What kind of noise?" Ron asked. 

"A loud gurgling noise. I finally figured it was someone flushing the toilet in one of the other compartments." 

"Possibly Amy's compartment?" Ron asked, trying to clarify which one she was referring to, since she had compartments on either side of her. 

"Ummm - yeah, I suppose. It woke me up, as I said, so it could have been the one on the other side. A person's not exactly clear-headed when they first wake up." 

Deciding that he wasn't going to be able to pin her down to choosing the exact room, Danny moved on. "Did you hear any other noises?" 

"No - nothing I can recall." 

"And you didn't see anyone either entering or exiting Amy's compartment during the night?" 

"Not in my sleep, 'fish-boy'," CJ responded with a smirk. 

"And you didn't go into Amy's compartment last night?" Danny asked. 

"Why on earth would I seek Amy out? I have far better things to do with my time." 

"And, of course, you would have no idea why several 'Goldfish' snack crackers would have been found around Amy's body?" 

"Who knows? Amy was always sticking her nose where it didn't belong. Maybe it found its way into my bag of 'Goldfish' crackers," CJ replied with a shrug that clearly said anything was possible where Amy was concerned. 

"Do you have your bag of crackers with you - or maybe in your compartment?" Danny asked. 

"Nope. I finished her - I mean - them off last night," CJ replied with a satisfied sigh. 

"You did, huh?" 

"Yep - it really hit the spot," CJ said, a Cheshire cat grin turning up the corners of her mouth. 

Danny and Ron exchanged a look, then Danny shrugged and said, "Okay, I think we've got all the information we can get here. Thanks, CJ."

"No problem," CJ replied, that Cheshire smile still firmly in place as she walked out of the room, leaving Danny and Ron behind, not much more informed than when the interview began. 


	8. Murder on the Campaign Express 8

**Murder on the Campaign Express**

**by:** Brandy, Cal, Evelyn, Jayne, Rhonda, and Shelley

**Disclaimer:** Aaron Sorkin owns everything. 

**Category:** Romance, Josh/Donna

**Spoilers:** Everything through Season 3

**Rating:** YTEEN

* * *

There was a firm knock at the door followed by the entry of a small, stocky man. He glanced furtively around the room and nodded at Ron before disappearing again. Seconds later, the President entered the room and grinned. 

"Danny, good to see you. How come we don't talk anymore?" 

Danny, who had risen rapidly to his feet, shuffled from foot to foot. "I don't know, Sir." 

"So you want to interview me?" the President asked, waving his hand to indicate the other occupants should sit. "Ron." 

"Mr. President," Ron muttered, stepping back into the shadows and leaving the questioning to Danny. He wasn't about to ask the President outright if he murdered the Gardner woman. Better Danny play the bad cop under the circumstances and Ron keep his job. Besides from his research earlier, and yes he had considered Miss Gardner as a suspect in CJ's stalking, she wasn't exactly an innocent bystander. 

"So, you want to ask me about Amy Gardner," Jed stated, staring past Danny and out of the window. "Great scenery, don't you think? It's so wonderful to travel cross- country like this. Gives one such wonderful imagery." 

Danny stroked his beard unconsciously, not really sure how the interview had gotten out of his control so quickly. "So, Mr. President. When did you last see Amy?" 

"I was hoping we could take a diversion on the way back. My staff need a break and I thought we could tour the National Parks," Jed said, smiling. "I'm not sure we can do that by train, but I've got Charlie looking into it. You know, Danny, I've visited every National Park. Except of course the newest one. You've heard of Big Sky?" Smiling, Jed answered his own question. "Of course you have. You reported on the declaration." 

"Mr. President. Amy?" 

Jed returned his attention from the scenery to the redheaded reporter's question. "Amy? Probably when she boarded. Abbey and I retired almost immediately to the executive sleeper." He grinned as he remembered what Abbey had done to her little cupcake. It was enough to make the icing melt, and of course the earth move. Either that or maybe the faulty air conditioning and rough tracks were to blame. Nah, Abbey did it. 

Danny raised an eyebrow at the satisfied grin on the Leader of the Free World's face. He scrunched up his face as realization of why the President looked so happy hit. "And that was the last time?" Danny asked, grimacing. 

"I don't really remember how many times. My wife . . ." 

Hurriedly, Danny interrupted the President before he found out more than he ever wanted to know about the First Lady. "I meant was that the last time you saw Amy. You didn't leave your sleeper car?" 

"Abbey and I were rather tied up." Jed flushed flamingo pink at the slip of the tongue and unconsciously rubbed his right wrist. 

Danny had the good grace to blush too. He focused on his notepad as he tried to move his thoughts back to the matter at hand, except an image of CJ in black lingerie, tied up in her sleeper car kept springing to mind. Not exactly the image he needed stuck in his mind whilst interviewing the President about murder. 

"So, no I didn't see Amy again." 

The President's voice broke through Danny's erotic reverie. 

The letters C and J stared up at Danny from his scribbled page of notes. Big bold letters surrounded by small hearts. 

Jed leaned across the table and caught a peek at Danny's notes. Frowning, he growled, "I hope you're not getting ideas about my Press Secretary again. She's a good Catholic girl and as a good Catholic boy, you should be abstaining." Jed settled back in his chair. "Anyway, it's a well known fact that I am not comfortable with violence."

"So, you're saying you had nothing to do with the unfortunate demise of Ms. Gardner?" Danny asked, blood slowly moving from his lap back up to his brain allowing him to catch up with the sudden shift in conversation. 

"Of course not," Jed snorted, his arms flailing through the air. "What possible motive would I have?" Without waiting for a response he asked, "So Notre Dame are playing well this year?" 

"Yes, Mr. President. Have you been able to catch a game or two?" 

"Of course. Abbey faithfully records them for me to watch in bed." His thoughts drifted back to Abbey and the special garment she had brought for this trip. Glancing at his watch briefly, he smiled up at Danny. "Is this going to take much longer? I have a special appointment." 

The special agent in the corner coughed and stifled a grin. The President's special appointments were the talk of the Secret Service, all in the strictest confidence of course. 

"Getting a sore throat there, Ron? Maybe I should get my wife to take a look at you." 

"There's no need, Mr. President," Ron said quietly. "If you'll just answer a few more questions, you can be on your way." 

"Of course." Jed leaned forward and rested his folded hands on the desk. "Ask away." 

"Did you know Amy was going to be on the train?" Danny asked, his pen poised over his notepad. 

"Trains are such an incredible way of travelling. One can just sit back and watch the world go by," Jed commented. "Of course, this is a little different than the average train. Bullet-proof glass and the Executive Sleeper is just like being at home. Well, not exactly. Ever slept in a bed that moved, even after you've finished. . ." 

"No, Sir. Uh, well," Danny interrupted, shifting in his seat. "So you didn't know Amy was traveling with you?" 

Jed sat silently for a second as he debated whether he'd received a memo about Amy or whether she'd just turned up. Damned woman always seemed to be turning up. Abbey had thought it prudent to set Josh up with the feminist from hell and look at the trouble that was causing him now. "No, I didn't know Amy was coming. She was a last minute addition. You would need to speak to Leo about that," Jed offered thoughtfully. "There was probably a very good reason for her being on board." 

"Had you had any disagreements with Ms. Gardner?" Ron asked calmly, his body never moving an inch. 

Jed turned to look at him and frowned. "I didn't really speak to her. She tried to screw up a welfare bill some months ago. Josh handled that. Of course Josh should never have let it get out of hand like it did, but these youngsters and their romances." 

He grinned at Danny, smug in the knowledge Leo had put the kibosh on any romance he'd had in mind with CJ. 

"I wouldn't know, Sir," Danny grumbled. 

Ron cleared his throat. "We digress." 

"Look," Jed began, his voice somewhere between a groan and a sigh. "My great, great, great grandfather signed the Declaration of Independence. I'm a two term Governor with a Nobel Prize in Economics and a three term Congressman. Do you really think I'm going to go around killing people I don't like?" He rolled his eyes for good measure. 

Danny pretended to consider the matter. "So you've never killed anyone?" 

Jed threw his arms in the air. 

"Well, if you didn't do it, maybe you had one of your staff finish the job. Have you ever ordered the death of someone? Maybe someone whom you considered dangerous and evil?" 

The President looked none to happy about answering the question again. "Danny." 

"Yes, Mr. President." 

"You're fired," the President stated heading for the door. 

Danny looked bewildered for a second. "But I don't work for you." 

"You had to think about it though, didn't you?" Jed smirked, looking back over his shoulder. 

Danny groaned as he looked back at his notepad. He frowned as he realized the President had blocked him from asking all the important questions on his list. And he'd never gotten an answer to his last question. Had the President ever ordered the death of someone? 


	9. Murder on the Campaign Express 9

**Murder on the Campaign Express**

**by:** Brandy, Cal, Evelyn, Jayne, Rhonda, and Shelley

**Disclaimer:** Aaron Sorkin owns everything. 

**Category:** Romance, Josh/Donna

**Spoilers:** Everything through Season 3

**Rating:** YTEEN

* * *

Danny was trying to gather his thoughts when there was a strong rap on the dining car door. As Ron was closer, he answered the knock. Abbey Bartlet strode into the room, her own Secret Service detail waiting outside. 

"Daniel! Long time, no see!" 

Danny stood, out of politeness and respect. "Mrs. Bartlet-- or should I say, Dr. Bartlet, so nice to see you." 

Abbey sat down across from where Danny was standing. "Well, I'm technically not a practicing physician right now, but I do like a boy with good manners. I understand that you've been interviewing everyone. How's that going?" 

Not wanting to give anything away of his investigation, he gave a pat answer. "Well enough, I suppose. I have some very interesting leads." 

"Care to share?" 

Danny waggled a finger in reproach. "I don't think so. Everyone is still a suspect, including you." 

"Then why haven't you interviewed me?" she asked sweetly. 

Raised eyebrows marked Danny's astonishment. "You are the first person I've talked to that is actually willing to participate in this investigation." 

"I'm as willing to find out who killed Amy as you are. I want to throw a party for whomever did it." 

"Ah. Well, your husband has already provided your alibi, so..." 

"He has, has he?" The tone of her voice told Danny that all would not be well in the state of Bartlet. No one spoke for Abbey Bartlet. 

"Pray tell, what did my dear husband say that seemingly exonerates me from this dastardly deed?" 

The tips of Danny's ears turned red. Ron looked the other way. "He, uh... that is to say the President... he, uh--" Danny sputtered. 

Ron mumbled, "The President said you two were doing the horizontal mambo all night long." 

Abbey looked amused. "Really?" 

Both Danny and Ron shot hesitant looks at one another. The President wouldn't have lied to Danny, would he? They turned to look at the First Lady when she cackled in a very un-First Lady like manner. 

"He fell asleep five minutes after we started!" 

"So you weren't 'busy' with your husband all last night?" 

Abbey laughed even louder for several minutes. Even after she stopped laughing, there were tears streaming from her eyes. "I am not in the habit of jumping my husband when he's unconscious. Now, if he hadn't fallen asleep--" 

Danny covered his ears with his arms. "Too much information!" 

Ron looked puzzled. "So you weren't with the President last night, all night?" 

"No. He fell asleep, I got bored, so I looked for some entertainment." 

Danny uncovered his ears. "What sort of entertainment?" 

"Well, I did look for CJ and the wine she brought, but she was talking with Toby at the time. Sam was busy combing his hair. Leo was ranting about something, I'm not sure about what... Josh and Donna were throwing paper snowballs at each other. I never did find Bruno and his brood, or for that matter Margaret. After that, I went back to my cabin and caught up on my medical journals." 

"Can anyone corroborate your story?" Danny asked. 

Abbey smirked. "Well, I would ask my husband, but he has different ideas about what happened last night." 

"So, that would be a 'no'?" 

"You're quick, Danny. It's a wonder no one has snatched you up yet." 

Danny flipped to a clean page in his notebook. "What did you think about the whole Josh-Amy dynamic?" 

Abbey's expression took on an air of calculated indifference. "It was supposed to be a match made in heaven. You see, I get tired of having to go down to Josh's office to browbeat him into getting any sort of feminist agenda on the table. Because, Lord knows, he's got the biggest mouth of them all. CJ tries, but if she suggests something, the Boys club thinks it's for the sisterhood. But if Josh suggests it, then the Boys club listens. So, CJ and I devised a plan to get a woman's influence in there. Amy looked really good on paper, but..." 

"But what," Danny urged her to continue. 

Abbey shook her head, forlorn. "She just didn't live up to her potential. She was supposed to be a good influence on Josh, and it ends up he was a bad influence on her. Josh is a sweet boy, but not all the bats in his belfry are running on radar if you catch my meaning." 

"I think I do. But rumor has it that you invited Amy to an impromptu party in your sitting room during your birthday bash." 

Fluttering her hand in front of her face, Abbey replied, "Oh, that. Well, I was raised right. If you invite someone, you have to invite everyone. She was in ear shot when I hijacked CJ, so propriety dictated that I had to invite her as well. Never again, I tell you." 

"Why is that, Dr. Bartlet?" 

"Have you seen that girl's feet? I swear, my feet couldn't attract that much dirt if they were magnetic and I had just walked through a field of iron filings." 

"That seems to be the running comment these days," Danny offered. 

"And she's a very boring drunk. Now, CJ on the other hand, she's fun to be around when she's had one, or ten, too many." 

Interest perked, Danny filed that tidbit away for future reference. "Dr. Bartlet, if you're no longer practicing--" 

"Oh, I do intend to practice after this administration is over, Daniel. Once a chest cutter, always a chest cutter." 

Danny looked suitably admonished. 

"Excuse me, I will amend my statement. If you are not practicing at this moment, do you still carry prescription pads with you?" 

"They make excellent little notebooks, easily pocketed, that sort of thing," Abbey explained. 

"Can you tell me how several of your prescription pads found their way into Amy's sleeper car if you had not seen her since yesterday?" 

"No, Daniel, I cannot." 


	10. Murder on the Campaign Express 10

**Murder on the Campaign Express**

**by:** Brandy, Cal, Evelyn, Jayne, Rhonda, and Shelley

**Disclaimer:** Aaron Sorkin owns everything. 

**Category:** Romance, Josh/Donna

**Spoilers:** Everything through Season 3

**Rating:** YTEEN

* * *

"I'm not sure where she is," Danny sighed impatiently. "I specifically told her what time to be here. Doesn't she realize we're trying to conduct an investigation?" 

"You know how women can be," Ron grumbled. 

"No, how can women be?" Donna asked cheerily. 

"Where did you come from?" Danny asked. 

"I just walked up like I always do." 

"This day is becoming unbearable," Ron growled as he retreated to a chair in the corner of the room and began softly banging his head against the wall. 

"Have a seat, Donna. This won't take long," Danny began. 

"Good. I have a million things to do." 

"Such as?" 

"Memos, meetings, schedules. Josh would be lost without me." 

"So I've heard. How's he feeling this morning?" 

"Fine," Donna answered breezily. 

"Why do you ask?" 

"Well, his girlfriend was murdered last night. I thought he might be a bit......I don't know......distraught?" 

"She wasn't really his girlfriend," Donna replied matter-of-factly. 

"But I thought......" 

"Oh they were sleeping together. No doubt about that. But she wasn't his girlfriend. That connotes some sort of emotional connection, and they didn't have one. Trust me. I know all about what it's like to have an emotional connection to Josh--and Amy didn't have it. Things were ok at first, but lately, when he was with her, he didn't have.......well he couldn't.......ok, let's just say that things were getting so bad he had me doing research on those little blue pills." 

"Really?" Danny said as he thought about the prescription in his wallet. 'I guess I'm not the only one who was curious.' 

"Really. But can you blame him?" Donna asked sincerely. 

"I guess not." 

"They were just engaging in a bit of mutually beneficial physical and professional gratification." 

"And what exactly does that mean?" 

"She was a power-dater and he was horny." 

"But why didn't he......" 

"Because he can't have a public relationship with the person he really loves. He has to date someone else to throw everyone off the scent. Amy was the perfect choice. She was willing to trade sex for power and access, no emotion needed." 

"Who is it that Josh really loves?" Danny asked with a sly smile. He loved it when he tricked an unsuspecting interviewee into revealing something they hadn't intended to. 

"I can't tell you that," Donna scolded. "I'm very loyal to Josh. I keep all his secrets." 

"Of course you do," Danny said aloud, while what he was really thinking was 'Drat, foiled again'. 

"Loyalty is very important in an employee. In fact, in the Court of St James........" 

"I'd really love to hear all of your interesting factoids, Donna, but we're kind of pressed for time. We need to get back to the matter at hand." 

"Which is?" 

"The death of Amy Gardner," Danny said in his best 'DUH' voice. 

"Oh, that," Donna said dismissively. 

"You don't seem terribly upset that she's dead." 

"We've all gotta go sometime," Donna said as she shrugged her shoulders. 

"Did you do anything that may have hastened Amy's meeting with her maker?" 

"Me?" Donna asked innocently. 

"Yes, you." 

"I had no motive. I wasn't the least bit worried about Amy. I knew that Josh would come back to......umm......his senses sooner or later." 

"And where exactly were you last night?" Danny asked. 

"I was working." 

"Alone?" 

"No," Donna said hesitantly. 

"With......" Danny asked leadingly. 

"Well it certainly wasn't Amy Gardner." 

"Then who was it?" 

"Who is it usually? Josh, of course." 

"And where exactly were the two of you working. Because aside from a few fleeting moments, no one remembers seeing either of you all night." 

"We needed a quiet place to get some things done." 

"What sort of things?" Danny asked, his temper growing short. 

"Work things," Donna answered, refusing to be intimidated. 

"Look, I want you to tell me where you and Josh were, and what you were doing, during the time in question last night." 

"Don't snap at me!" 

"Donna.." 

"No, I mean it. Don't snap at me. I'm just trying to give you what you asked for. The things I tell you may end up being valuable to the investigation. But you won't know that until you read over your notes. So just open your mind to the fact that I may be giving you exactly what you want and don't snap at me!" 

Danny stared at her, bewildered. Ron's head began to bang harder against the wall. 

"OK. Let's just take a deep breath here and try this from another angle." 

"Ok." 

"Did you see Amy last night?" 

"What do you mean by 'see'. Do you mean did I visually locate her? Are you asking if I spoke to her? If we were alone together?" 

"Maybe this will help refresh your memory," Danny said as he pulled an item out of the bag by his feet. 

"Do these panties belong to you?" 

"No," Donna said adamantly. 

"Don't lie to me," Danny warned. "I know they're yours. They have your name in them. Which, by the way, is something I'd like to discuss with you after this whole investigation is over." 

"Get in line." 

Danny was momentarily startled, then gathered his thoughts and continued. 

"Would you care to tell me how your panties made their way to Amy Gardner's cabin?" 

"I have no idea." 

"Umm......don't you remember taking them off?" 

"I don't think I like what you're suggesting, Danny." 

"I'm just trying to find out how your panties came to be found wrapped around Amy's neck." 

"I'm sure I don't know. You see, those panties are the ones I lost last year on the floor in front of Karen Cahill." 

"Yeah, I remember hearing about that," Danny chuckled. "But from what I was told, Josh gave them back to you." 

"He did. And I put them in my desk drawer. But when I went to retrieve them later, they were gone." 

"Stolen?" 

"I didn't say that. I just said gone." 

"The rumor is that Josh was doing some pretty serious fondling of your underwear in the bullpen. Do you think he was the one who stole them?" 

"What are you insinuating, Daniel? Josh doesn't wear women's panties. Unless of course it's after a bachelor party and he's wearing them as a necklace," Donna said sternly. "I'm not sure what's gotten in to you, but I may have to ask CJ to adjust your attitude." 

Danny scowled. "So you're telling me you have no idea how your panties ended up in Amy's room." 

"None whatsoever." 

"And you were working with Josh all night." 

"I was with Josh all night. Right." 

"Every second?" 

"Well I had to leave for a few minutes to run to the kitchen car and see if they had any whipped cream." 

"Whipped cream?" Danny's eyebrows rose dramatically. 

"Yes......um......yes," Donna stammered. 

"And what did you need whipped cream for?" 

"I like it in my hot chocolate," Donna said as she demurely straightened her skirt. 

"Right." 

"Don't push me, Danny. CJ has told me things I'm sure you don't want spread around." 

"Alright, let's wrap this up," Danny said quickly. "You're saying you didn't see Amy at all last night." 

"I didn't say that." 

"So you did see her?" 

"Briefly." 

"What did you talk about?" 

"Josh's cell phone." 

"I'm sorry?" 

"We talked about Josh's cell phone." 

"Why did you need to talk to Amy about Josh's cell phone?" 

"She stewed it." 

"Stewed it?" 

"Yes. In the middle of one of her little Amy-snits, she threw Josh's phone in a pot of burned stew." 

"What is she, five years old?" 

"Tell me about it. It's like dealing with a toddler. When she doesn't get her way.......well......I could tell you stories." 

"So you went to ask her to replace the cell phone?" 

"No. The phone was replaced the next morning. What do you think I am, a slacker? Josh can't work without his phone. He needs to be accessible 24 hours a day. He's a very important man." 

"Right. Sorry. You wanted her to pay for damages?" 

"No, I wanted her to pay for the calls she made after she fished the phone out of the stew." 

"Huh?" 

"All I know is that two days after she dumped the phone in the stew, she had it messengered back to Josh. I was just gonna expense it out as some unfortunate accident, then I got the bill." 

"And she made calls?" 

"Yes, can you believe it? The phone was still working after she dug it out of the stew. And there were close to a dozen calls to 900 numbers on the bill. Although how a person who mumbles like that can have phone sex is beyond me." 

"It still worked when she pulled it out of the stew? Man, what kind was it? I can't even get mine to work if there's a tree within 100 yards." 

"I'll write down the model number for you. They're really great. I got one for myself......" 

"A--hem," Ron interrupted from the corner of the room. 

"I'll get the information from you later," Danny whispered before resuming his normal speaking voice. "So you asked Amy about the calls." 

"I only saw her for a few minutes. I gave her a copy of the bill and told her she really needed to brush up on her basic hygiene. That phone was filthy and yet she had it near her ear and mouth. The woman was a total slob." 

"But I'm not sure how that matters in this case." 

"Hygiene always matters. And don't even get me started on her feet. They were filthy. I mean where does a woman who lives in D.C. pick up all that dirt on her feet." 

"I've heard......" 

"Well hearing is nothing compared to seeing. I'm quite sure that she stepped on a rusty nail somewhere along the way and that's why her jaw didn't move." 

"I'm not following you," Danny said, confusion all over his face. 

"Try and keep up. Dirty feet + rusty nail + outdated Tetanus shot = lockjaw." 

"I guess that's as good a theory as any." 

"It makes me cringe to think about what germs Josh may have picked up from her. He has a very sensitive system you know." 

"I'll keep that in mind." 

"All I can tell you is that Amy was alive when I left her. And I was with Josh for the rest of the night. After I retrieved the whipped cream that is." 

"OK. That'll be all, Donna. If I have any other questions I'll let you know." 

"OK. Nice to see you again, Danny. You should come around more often." Donna smiled sweetly and headed towards the door. 

When she was almost there, Danny spoke again. "Just one other thing. Did you hear any screaming last night?" 

"Oh yes," Donna blushed, "There was definitely screaming. But it wasn't Amy." 


	11. Murder on the Campaign Express 11

**Murder on the Campaign Express**

**by:** Brandy, Cal, Evelyn, Jayne, Rhonda, and Shelley

**Disclaimer:** Aaron Sorkin owns everything. 

**Category:** Romance, Josh/Donna

**Spoilers:** Everything through Season 3

**Rating:** YTEEN

* * *

Josh was walking into the lounge car just as Donna was leaving. She had just finished her interview with Danny and Ron, and he couldn't help but notice the rosy flush in her cheeks or the not-so-secret smile on her lips. As they passed by each other in the doorway, Josh saw mischief and promise in her eyes as their eyes met briefly, then she was on her way down the passageway. Josh couldn't help but smile a little himself, as memories of the night before created all sorts of satisfying mental images. Doing his level best to wipe all evidence of those pleasurable memories from his expression, Josh walked across the room to where his inquisitors were waiting. 

"How's it going, guys?" Josh asked as he dropped into the chair Donna had just vacated. It was still nice and warm- not that that surprised him......Okay, he needed to stop that line of thought right away. 

"Josh? You okay?" Danny asked after a moment. 

"Sure- why do you ask?" 

"Well, I just said something to you and you didn't respond...... and you had kind of a funny look on your face."

"Well, Danny, let's see - we're in the middle of a tough campaign. We're on this lunatic train trip, instead of traveling in a luxurious, state-of-the-art aircraft, and - oh yeah, someone was murdered last night while we all slept", Josh replied, just a tad defensively. 

"Yeah - well, first of all, I'll repeat my earlier condolences over Amy's demise. I understand you two were 'involved'......"

"Yeah, you could say that."

"Second of all, I'm not sure it would be totally accurate to say that Amy was murdered while everyone slept", Danny stated with a rather pointed look at Josh.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Were you sleeping last night, Josh?"

"Well......not technically." 

"What does 'not technically' mean?"

"It means....... It means that I wasn't sleeping." 

"Okay then - what were you doing?"

"I was working." 

"Working ......alone?"

"Not really." 

"Okay, I'm just going to jump ahead and assume that means that someone was with you. Right?" Danny asked, already knowing the answer. 

Josh figured Donna had supplied at least that much information already, so he confirmed Danny's assumption. "Yeah - Donna was with me." 

"You and Donna were working all night?" 

"Yeah - pretty much." 

Ron sighed heavily and looked at Danny with a weary expression. This interview was as irritating, if not worse, than the one with Donna had been. The two had obviously been giving each other lessons on the importance of being vague. 

"And where were you working? In your compartment?" 

"No." 

"In Donna's?" 

"In Donna's what?" 

"In her compartment?!" Danny practically yelled, his face getting red with frustrated anger. 

"Hey, man - you should really try to take it a little easy - maybe go stand against that wall over there and take a few deep breaths. Just don't stand near a door, because I did once and Donna"

"I'll be fine if I can just get a few straight answers around here! Now...... where were you and Donna during the time you were working together?"

"How about if I just say we found a quiet little space that wasn't in anyone's compartment, and leave it at that", Josh replied firmly. 

"Fine - for now, we'll do that. Now, were you two together the whole time?" 

"Uhmmm......yeah." 

"Every second of the time?" 

"Well, maybe not every second", Josh admitted reluctantly. 

"Donna left you? You left her? What?" 

"Actually, she had to go out at one point, and so did I." 

"For how long?" 

"Which time?" 

"Both! Either! Just answer the damn question!" 

"Hey, I'm just trying to be clear on what you're asking me. Well, let's see...... it couldn't have been for more than a few minutes either time. Of course I'm not the best person to ask when it comes to questions about time. Donna's always saying that I have no grasp of time because I have, in her words, a watch that 'sucks'. I don't think so, but it's useless to argue with the woman......"

"'Josh! I think I get the point. So, as best as you can narrow it down with your pathetic grasp of time, you and Donna were out of each other's sight for at least a few minutes on two separate occasions. Is that correct?"

"Yeah."

"I know I'm going to regret asking this, but what did you go out for?" 

"Excuse me?" 

"I think you heard me", Danny replied with a pointed look. 

"Yeah......well, I had to go out for something of a personal nature." 

"A personal nature? Is that your delicate way of saying you had to go to the 'little boy's room', Josh?" 

"No." 

"Okay - one more time - what did you go out for?" 

"A personal item that has nothing at all to do with your little investigation", Josh replied, blushing profusely. 

The longer Danny and Ron looked at him, the more crimson his complexion turned. Finally, Danny and Ron shared a look, and Josh knew that the penny had finally dropped, and they had figured out what that 'item of a personal nature' was. Josh sat there for a miserable few moments, squirming in embarrassment, as Ron and Danny tried unsuccessfully to hide their amusement. 

Finally Danny muttered, "Well, I guess that explains the Cool-Whip." 

Josh was fervently wishing for a hole to open up in the floor that he could drop through. He couldn't believe Donna had told them about the Cool-Whip! More to the point - what exactly had she told them about the Cool-Whip? 

"Josh -You okay? I haven't seen a look like that on your face since you came up with your secret plan to fight inflation", Danny observed with a devilish smirk. 

Amusement lightened even Ron Butterfield's stoic expression at that comment. Finally, curbing their collective amusement over Josh and Donna's nocturnal escapades, Danny looked at Ron and nodded toward the bag at Ron's feet. Ron reached into the bag, retrieved a small object, and placed it on the table between them. Josh's eyes widened just a bit at seeing the item, before looking inquisitively at the two men across from him. Danny picked up the item, and held it up between them. 

"Recognize this?" 

"Well, it looks like a cell phone......" Josh hedged. 

"Yeah, a pretty trashed cell phone if you ask me", Danny observed. 

"I'd have to agree with you there." 

"Uh-huh......What do you suppose this brown crusty looking gunk is that's all over it?" Danny asked with a smug little grin. 

"Uhmmm - it looks like dried up stew, maybe?" 

"Yeah, I think so too. In fact, you know that's what it is - because it's your phone, and the last time you used it was right before it ended up in a big pot of stew. Isn't that right?" 

"Well, if that is indeed my phone, then that would be a accurate statement of the facts." 

"Is that the last time you saw this particular phone?" Ron asked. 

"Uhmmm - I'm not sure."

"Not sure? You're not sure if you saw this after it took a swan dive into a pot of stew?" Danny asked incredulously, holding the object up as visual evidence of just how memorable it was. 

"Okay, I do seem to remember it being sent back to me a couple of days after Amy had her little snit-fit, but I don't recall what happened to it. Donna had already taken care of getting me a new one, so I wasn't worried about it. I'm a busy man, you know. I oversee eleven-hundred White House employees. I don't have time to concern myself with soiled cell phones." 

"Okay...... so you're fairly sure you haven't seen or had possession of this phone since it suffered it's unfortunate fate?" 

"Yeah, pretty sure. What's the big deal about a crusty, cruddy cell phone anyway?" 

"Other than the fact that it was shoved down Amy Gardner's throat - nothing at all", Ron replied in his typically bland and inscrutable manner. Danny just leaned back in his chair to observe Josh's reaction to this tidbit of information. It was interesting, to say the least. 

"Oh......well...... I guess that would make it somewhat important." 

"Somewhat - yes." 

"Shoved it down her throat, hmm?" 

"Yeah. It looks like whoever did it was trying to make quite the point." 

"Uh - yeah. I guess so." 

"Well, I just have one more question before we wrap this up - Did you see Amy at any time last night?" 

"Amy?" 

"Yeah, Amy. The deceased. The person who was murdered while at least a few of us slept last night. The reason that we're spending all this fun time together.......Amy." 

"Uh - well, I believe we did spend a few moments together." 

"What occurred during those few moments?" 

"Nothing much - just your average five minutes of power-hungry manipulation, and frustrating one-sided conversation." 

"Sounds like a lot of fun", Danny replied sarcastically. 

"You have no idea. I mean - far be it from me to speak ill of the dead - but, have you ever spent five minutes listening to a diatribe on what a sexist, elitist pig you, and all your friends are, and when it's finally your turn to speak, the person puts their hand in your face, in some adolescent gesture of denial, and says, 'Don't talk to me'? I mean, what kind of a rational person does that?" 

"I hear you", Danny commiserated. "It's enough to drive a man to extreme measures just to shut someone like that up." 

"Oh yeah...... Hey! What are you trying to say?" Josh asked indignantly. 

"Nothing, Josh - nothing at all. Just making an observation", Danny replied with an innocent shrug. 

"You can just keep those kind of observations to yourself." 

"Fair enough. So, after this unsatisfying conversation with Amy, what did you do then?" 

"I met up with Donna, and we got to work on some stuff." 

"Stuff?" 

"Yeah." 

"Okey-doke." 

"And did you hear anything unusual last night?" 

"Well......" 

"Yes?" 

"The only thing I can think of is this one time when Donna got kind of loud......" 

"Loud?" Danny asked with an amused grin. 

"Oh......uh, yeah. She was making a point in the middle of this discussion we were having. Donna can very forceful when she's making a point", Josh explained, once again looking very flustered. 

"I'll bet." 

"So - are we done? I really do have things that need my attention." 

Danny looked to Ron who shrugged then nodded, as if to say, 'sure-why not?'. 

"Yeah, Josh. I guess that's about it." 

Josh quickly rose and was halfway across the room when Danny called out to him. "Say, Josh-" 

"Yeah?" Josh said, turning with a frustrated sigh. 

"You wouldn't happen to know anything about Donna's panties, would you?" 

"I beg your pardon?" Josh asked in a near screech, his eyes practically bugging out of his head. He was standing there with visions of those lacy black panties Donna had been wearing last night swimming in his head - and wondering just how Danny knew about that...... 

"You know - those panties of Donna's - the ones Karen Cahill sent you. Those panties......" Danny clarified, thoroughly enjoying the expression on Josh's face. 

"What about them?" he finally gulped out. 

"Would you happen to know where they are?" 

"Uh...... to the best of my knowledge, they're in the bottom right-hand drawer of her desk. Unless......" 

"Unless what?" 

"Unless they're not. I mean, it was a while ago, and given the way I came into possession of them, they're liable to turn up anywhere." 

Danny thought about that for a moment, and with a shrug and a smile said, " Okay. I guess that answers my question." 

With that, Josh completed his exit, thoughts of lacy, silky panties and Cool-Whip dancing in his head. He really needed to find Donna and clear up a few things. Maybe they could steal away to that 'quiet place' again, he thought as he swaggered down the passageway in the direction Donna had gone. 


	12. Murder on the Campaign Express 12

**Murder on the Campaign Express**

**by:** Brandy, Cal, Evelyn, Jayne, Rhonda, and Shelley

**Disclaimer:** Aaron Sorkin owns everything. 

**Category:** Romance, Josh/Donna

**Spoilers:** Everything through Season 3

**Rating:** YTEEN

* * *

"In less than 20 minutes we will be pulling into the first stop of the Bartlet Campaign Express." Danny Concanon, redheaded reporter for The Washington Post and amateur detective looked around the lounge car. "You can make this easy on yourselves -or you can make it hard. What's it gonna be?" 

The assembled group looked cautiously at each other and nodded in silent agreement. 

"Okay, Danny," CJ, the secret love of his life finally spoke up. "Half pepperoni, half mushroom. But hold the anchovies."

Danny nodded to Ron Butterfield, Secret Service Agent and lunch coordinator. The tall, silent guy picked up his cell phone and ordered six pizzas to be delivered to the station. 

"Now about that other thing," Danny ventured.

"What now? I agreed to vegetables on the damn pizza. What more could you want?" Josh whined. 

"Well, first of all, let me point out that pepperoni is not a vegetable, but anyway, about Amy Gardner," Danny began again.

"What about her? What does she want on the pizza?" Margaret asked timidly. 

"She's dead, Margaret. Deader than Babish's tape recorder. Deader than Josh's secret plan to fight inflation. Deader than the First Lady's medical career. Deader than Bruce Willis in the Sixth Sense. Get with the program, dearie," Donna snapped. 

Margaret blushed and quickly looked out the window. 

"Like I was saying. Amy Gardner's dead and I've been trying to figure out who would want to kill her," Danny said deliberately. 

"Isn't the better question: who wouldn't want to kill her?" The President intoned thoughtfully. "Not that I'm implying that murder is ever the way to handle a problem." 

"Well I've given this a lot of thought and I've come up with two theories about how the bitch, er...... Ms. Gardner, met her maker, kicked the bucket, bit the bullet, took that last ride to glory, bought a one-way ticket to that big feminist convention in heaven..."

"Trust me," Leo said dryly. "Heaven is not the direction that Ms. Gardner is heading." 

Danny glared at the Chief of Staff. "Last night, Amy Gardner was murdered while a Gilbert and Sullivan cd played in the background. The cd player was set to continuous play."

The whole room groaned in horror. 

"Yes, our killer was vicious. And the horror didn't stop with that. No, ladies and gentleman, Ms. Gardner was shot, poisoned by a cinnamon raisin muffin, stabbed with a penknife, strangled with panties, had a cell phone shoved down her throat, gagged on a combination of goldfish crackers, cheese, and a gumdrop, was struck by a pink rubber ball, assaulted by wads of paper from a thesaurus, a hundred dollar bill wrapped in a dryer sheet, and prescription pads, and assailed with pennies. Then, for good measure, someone rubbed her face with Rogaine, which would account for the mustache and beard we found on her this morning."

"Nah, she had those before," Abbey pointed out.

"But is she really dead? Did anyone throw water on her and watch her melt?" asked Margaret meekly. 

Danny thought he heard Margaret hum a song from 'The Wizard of Oz', but shook his head, sure he had imagined it. "Believe me, she's a goner." 

The whole room sighed in relief.

"But despite the lack of clues, I know who killed Amy Gardner, and why," Danny declared boldly. 

"Who?" The President, First Lady, Leo, Josh, Donna, CJ, Toby, Sam, Connie, Doug, and Bruno asked eagerly. 

"J'accuse," the redheaded reporter paused dramatically. He pointed his finger at all the suspects, then paused and announced, "Margaret."

"Who me?" squeaked the redheaded assistant. 

"Yes, you." 

"Not me." 

"Then who?" 

"Excuse me Mr. Concanon," Ron Butterfield interrupted. 

"Hmmm, oh yes. As I was saying. I accuse Margaret of murdering her........her identical twin sister, Amy Gardner."

There was, pardon the statement, dead silence in the room.

"Um...... isn't anyone even a little bit surprised," Danny asked finally. 

"About what?" Doug inquired. 

"What Doug means to say is," Connie interrupted, "What about should we be surprised?" 

"Thank you, Constance. That was so much clearer," Doug murmured.

"De Nada." 

"You're rubbing it in about the Spanish again, aren't you?" Sam whined. "I could have handled that meeting by myself." 

"Yeah, right," Doug snickered. 

"He means . . . ," Connie started, before Doug slapped a hand over her mouth.

"Anyhoo," Danny continued. "I thought you might want to know how I knew that it was Margaret who killed her evil twin Amy." 

"Sure, okay," the group chorused. 

"Do I get to vote?" Margaret asked. 

Everyone in the room stared at her. 

"Fine," she whispered. 

"Well, it was clear that Amy had had enormous amounts of plastic surgery." 

"Which explains why her jaw never moved. The skin was pulled too tight," Abbey commented, putting on her best physician voice.

"Exact-a-mundo," Danny muttered. "Plus, Margaret was shocked and appalled at the alley cat morals of her twin sister, as well as her incredibly dirty feet." 

"Can you blame me?" whined Margaret. "The woman toyed with poor Donna's man and played with my main man Bruno." Margaret turned and glared at the campaign expert. "I know you gave her a necklace too, Bruno." 

"It was a one-time thing, Melanie, honey." 

"Look at the necklace, Bruno, it's Margaret," she hissed. 

"I knew that. I was just trying to get a little banter thing going. Be more like the other guys here." 

"Okay, pussycat," the redheaded assistant simpered. Turning back to the assembled crowd, her voice became harsh, "But then, that strumpet kissed my Leo, right on the lips." 

There was a collective gasp. 

"She had to be stopped," Margaret said defiantly. "Or at the very least, she had to wash her feet." 

There were murmured nods of agreement.

"We can spin this Margaret. You don't have to worry. You won't do more than five years in Sing-Sing," CJ offered reassuringly. 

"I'll get you cigarettes," Donna offered. "They're good for trading to protect your farm girl ass.

"Thank you," Margaret murmured. 

"Well now that's settled," Danny declared. "Except..." 

"What now?" Josh whined. "Are we ever going to get that pizza?" 

"It's a lie," Danny boasted. "You all know that Margaret didn't kill Amy Gardner....or at least she didn't do it all by herself." 

"She didn't?" gasped the guilt-ridden crowd.

"No. But it is amazing how you all are prepared to let poor Margaret take the heat for this one." 

"What's the point of being President if you can't issue a Presidential pardon?" mused the most powerful man in the free world. 

"How many can you issue?" Danny wondered. 

"As many as I need," The President declared solemnly.

"Then I'd start the paperwork right away because I accuse the following people of conspiring and then one by one, sneaking into her room and administering a death blow to Amy Gardner: Josiah Bartlet, Abigail Bartlet, Leo McGarry, Toby Ziegler, Claudia Jean Cregg, Joshua Lyman, Donnatella Moss, Bruno Gianelli, Connie Tate, and Douglas Wegland.

"You're so smart, big boy. How'dja figure it out? What gave us away?" CJ whispered, batting her eyelashes at her redheaded admirer, and rubbing her hand up and down his arm. 

"Well, it was tough. Being's how there were no clues to speak of," Danny said, nodding his head vigorously, his tongue practically hanging down to his knees.

"And you'll keep our little secret?" CJ murmured into the reporter's ear. 

"I think that can be arranged," he agreed, happily. "Say, if Amy Gardner were to suddenly disappear, would anyone notice?' 

"Nah-uh," chorused the assembled group. 

"Maybe her dog Henry would notice," Josh asserted. 

After receiving annoyed looks from the crowd, Josh backed towards the door, saying, "Uh, I'll take the dog."

"Then I think a brief stop at the Nevada nuclear waste dump might be in order," the President said, looking at his Secret Service Agent. 

"Nevada's not gonna want to take her either," Leo warned. 

"Just cause it's their state, they think they get to whine about what we stick next to their precious ground water. 10,000 years or so, they won't even notice a glow. Ron, make the arrangements." 

"I'm on it, Sir," Ron saluted and left the car. 

"There's just one more thing," Danny said suddenly, reluctantly pulling away from the Press Secretary who was snuggling in his lap. 

"What's that?" 

"Well, I think you have to read the epilogue to find out what really happened to Amy Gardner." 


	13. Murder on the Campaign Express 13

**Murder on the Campaign Express**

**by:** Brandy, Cal, Evelyn, Jayne, Rhonda, and Shelley

**Disclaimer:** Aaron Sorkin owns everything. 

**Category:** Romance, Josh/Donna

**Spoilers:** Everything through Season 3

**Rating:** YTEEN

* * *

"Daniel." 

"Mr. Sorkin." 

"Please, there's no need to be formal. Call me Aaron." 

"If you want me to call you Aaron, you just have to......you know......write it that way." 

"Look, the last thing I need right now is anyone's attitude. Can we just move on?" 

"Sure. Been having a rough time lately?" 

"That's an understatement." 

"Want to talk about it?" 

"I just don't know where it all went wrong," Aaron sighed dramatically as he sunk down into an overstuffed armchair. "Things were sailing right along. The ratings were fantastic. We were critical darlings. The awards were pouring in." 

"And then?" 

"Season three." 

"A nightmare?" 

"I don't even know where to start." 

"The beginning is usually a good place," Danny said dryly. 

"Very witty. I can't for the life of me imagine why I wrote you out," Aaron shot back sarcastically. 

"No problem. I'm on Ed now. I'm doing a lot of work behind the camera, appearing onscreen once in a while. It's a good gig." 

"Excellent. Glad to hear that." 

"Thanks. Now back to the matter at hand." 

"Right. The beginning. It was all so simple then." 

Without warning, strains of Barbra Streisand singing 'The Way We Were' filled the air. 

"Go on," Danny said, looking around for the source of the music. 

"First, there was Josh and Mandy. It was gonna be a simple case of boy met girl, boy lost girl, now boy and girl are back working together engaging in a fun, flirty relationship that would have all America wishing for them to reunite." 

"That doesn't sound all that simple." 

"Shut up. It's a time-tested television storyline. It works every time." 

"Apparently not EVERY time." 

"Smart ass. It was just my luck to end up with two actors who had no chemistry." 

"None?" 

"Think Anne Heche/Harrison Ford in that stupid movie where the plane crashes. Or Sean Connery/Catherine Zeta Jones. Or Richard Gere and.......well.......anybody." 

"That bad?" 

"Yep. And what was making matters even worse was the fact that Josh had an uncontrollable chemistry with another character." 

"Well, that's good. At least there were sparks." 

"The character was his assistant. And she was supposed to only have 3 or 4 lines every couple of episodes." 

"Oooops." 

"Tell me about it." 

"That complicated things, I'll bet." 

"I tried to force the whole Josh/Mandy thing for almost a whole season. But the fans wanted to see more of Josh and Donna. Before I knew it, I had to put a cute, flirty, banter-y scene between Josh and Donna in every episode." 

"And Josh and Mandy?" 

"Nada!" 

"So you really had no choice. I mean you had to do it." 

"Right. I shipped Mandy off to oblivion, and made Donna a regular character." 

"I understand why that had to happen. But what I never got was why there was no explanation of what happened to Mandy. Not a word." 

"I always intended to explain it. But when we got back for season 2 we had the whole shooting thing to deal with, and the longer I put it off, the sillier it would have sounded." 

"Still, just one line......." 

"I plan on doing it. Just give me time." 

"No offense, Aaron, but you have a habit of saying you're planning on doing something and then..well..not exactly carrying through. Do I need to mention CJ's season 2 'love interest', the reappearance of the Bartlet daughters in season 3, the return of a certain red-headed reporter......" 

"I can make you disappear anytime I want to," Aaron snapped. 

"Don't I know it," Danny sighed. "But let's get back to where things got off track. You made Donna a regular character in season 2. She and Josh had fabulous chemistry. What could have gone wrong?" 

"Well, unresolved sexual tension is a tricky thing. You have to play it out as long as you can to keep the audience interested. You can't get them together too soon because......well...... consummation is boring." 

"Is that line in some sort of handbook for actors and writers? Because you all seem to use it." 

"It's a time-tested television axiom." 

"If you say so." 

"Anyway, things just sailed along smoothly in season 2. And that was the problem. It was too easy. There were no bumps in the road, no.......what's the word I'm looking for......angst." 

"And a relationship needs 'angst'?" 

"A television one does. Besides, there were still some people out there who weren't sold on the relationship." 

"Why not?" 

"I don't know. They had some sort of problem with a man dating his assistant. Or some sort of leggy-blonde envy. Regardless, they were quite vocal. More on certain boards than others, but that's another topic." 

"So you thought a little 'angst' might fix this?" 

"Sure. Nothing makes people root for a couple more than the introduction of a third-party love interest. It's a time-tested television storyline." 

"I think the problem here is that you believe all of these time-tested......" 

"Shut up." 

"Ok." 

"So I brought in Cliff Calley to be the evil Republican lawyer who tried to steal Donna away from Josh." 

"Did it work?" 

"Not exactly," Aaron declared dejectedly. 

"Why not." 

"Calley was too likable. He was smart, and funny, and attentive." 

"A likable Republican lawyer?" 

"Go figure. But at least it proved wrong the critics who said I made all the Republicans on the show evil or stupid." 

"So then why did Cliff have to go?" 

"The audience actually liked him. I don't mean just tolerated him......liked him." 

"And that's a problem?" 

"You're not listening to me, are you? Josh and Donna are the ones who belong together. I've said it a million times. Don't people read my interviews?" 

"I've been busy," Danny mumbled. 

"Well the fact is, I can't have people actually starting to root for the third-party love interest. So I had to dump him." 

"Like you dumped Mandy?" 

"No, I made some vague reference to he and Donna having sex, let him treat her condescendingly during and after her testimony, then made him force her to turn over her personal diary." 

"That'll teach him to be likable." 

"Hey, I let him redeem himself before he left. He got to save Leo's ass." 

"My guess is he was more interested in Donna's ass." 

"Yeah, well, things are tough all over." 

"So, Cliff was gone." 

"Right. And I couldn't bring another love interest for Donna right away. It wouldn't have looked right." 

"Why not?" 

"It just wouldn't have, ok?" 

"Whatever you say. So you decided to bring in a love interest for Josh?" 

"That's right. And believe me, I wasn't gonna make the same mistake twice. There was no chance this one was gonna be too likable." 

"Well I'd say you did a good job of that." 

"Not really," Aaron replied miserably. 

"What do you mean?" 

"Some of the viewers thought that I had sent Josh totally off the beam and had him actually fall in love that shrew. They couldn't see that she was nothing more than a plot device." 

"Really? But it was so obvious." 

"Tell me about it. But they just didn't get it. So I kept trying harder and harder to make it obvious." 

"So that's what the ridiculous 'Don't talk to me' stuff was all about?" 

"Yep. Along with sniping at the cocktail waitress, going behind Josh's back at Abbey's birthday party, rifling through the First Lady's drawers, etc..etc......" 

"You really did want people to hate her didn't you?" 

"Not completely. I gave her a dog." 

"Good point." 

"And I allowed her to make a good argument on the whole marriage incentives issue." 

"But you had her handle it completely wrong." 

"Yeah, well, such is the role of a plot device." 

"There are just two things I absolutely have to know," Danny said, sensing this scene was coming to an end. 

"Go ahead." 

"Why the dirty feet?" 

"Don't I have enough to do?" Aaron pleaded. "Actor's personal hygiene isn't my department." 

"Fair enough. But what about the decision for her to talk without moving her mouth? What was up with that?" 

"Don't know. You'd have to ask Mary Louise. It was all her choice......although between you and me......I just didn't get it," Aaron said, shaking his head. 

"Me either. She has an excellent reputation as an actress. She won a Tony you know." 

"I know. That's why we hired her. I have no idea where it all went wrong." 

"I saw where she said she didn't really connect with the character of Amy," Danny offered helpfully. 

"Well that was quite apparent," Aaron answered dryly. 

"You know, there are rumblings out there that you've lost the magic. People really had some serious issues with season 3." 

"I know. Have I mentioned that there was a lot going on last year? Maybe we could say I just momentarily lost my focus." 

"Honestly, I don't think that one's gonna fly." 

"Legal problems?" Aaron offered. 

"Nope." 

"Marital problems?" he tried again. 

"Uh-uh." 

"It was all Tommy Schlamme's fault? He wanted to delay Josh and Donna a while longer, thereby forcing me to use third party love-interests?" 

"That one's kinda weak too." 

"I thought I'd give it a try. How about a combination of all of those things? And have I mentioned how far behind schedule we were? And all of the stress and pressure?" 

"I've heard." Danny looked sympathetically at Aaron sitting with his head in his hands. "Ok, assuming I accept all that, it still doesn't tell me who actually killed Amy Gardner." 

"That's simple," Aaron smiled tiredly but triumphantly. "I did. She was screwing up my show. When I got there, she had taken quite a beating from my characters. She was still alive though. I shot her, stabbed her, and tried to drown her. Nothing worked. The woman was immortal. And that's when it hit me." 

"What?" 

"A brilliant idea. I put a stake through her heart. After all, it works for Joss Whedon." 


	14. Quiz Answers

**Murder on the Campaign Express**

**by:** Brandy, Cal, Evelyn, Jayne, Rhonda, and Shelley

**Disclaimer:** Aaron Sorkin owns everything. 

**Category:** Romance, Josh/Donna

**Spoilers:** Everything through Season 3

**Rating:** YTEEN

* * *

Quiz Answers  


We're glad you enjoyed the story. Here are the answers to the quiz.

Goldfish crackers - CJ (The Short List)

pennies - Sam (War Crimes)

pink rubber ball - Toby (17 People)

prescription pad - Abbey (17 People)

a block of cheese - Leo (The Crackpots and These Women)

cell phone - Josh (We Killed Yamamoto)

pink panties - Donna (The Leadership Breakfast)

cinnamon raisin muffin - Margaret (Let Bartlet be Bartlet)

$100 bill wrapped in a dryer sheet - Bruno (Gone Quiet)

thesaurus - Connie (Manchester, part 1)

Rogaine - Doug (Manchester, part 1)

cupcake - Jed (The White House Pro-Am)


End file.
